


Arrhythmia

by electric_eel



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 42,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electric_eel/pseuds/electric_eel
Summary: She makes his heart skip a beat.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 393
Kudos: 212





	1. Chapter 1

Today is pretty much awful. 

I slide my debit card and pay for the salad and a cup of fruit in the cafeteria, resisting the urge to add a sugar cookie to my tray. I have the tendency to stress eat, but I instead walk towards the booth in the corner that houses my best friend, sliding in across from her and the large binder she’s searching through.

“Hey, Joan.” 

“Hey, Donna.”

It feels heavenly to sit down. My break isn’t very long, but today, I’m going to savor it. We’ve been in and out of the OR all day with a packed schedule, and I’m ready to take a breather. The woman across the booth from me, however, looks like she’s growing more frazzled instead of less.

“The caterers called and left me a voicemail saying that there’s a problem with the oyster bar. But I’ve called them back 3 times and nobody is answering. You can’t just call a woman, 11 weeks before her wedding day, and tell her there’s a problem with her oyster bar and then not answer the phone again!”

“Joan. It’s 11:20 at night. No caterer in their right mind is going to be in the office.”

“I have his cell phone number.” Joan stares back at me straight faced, with a twinkle of crazy bride in her eye, and I know it’s time to take matters into my hands. It’s for her own good.

“Okay, well in that case you may want to start looking for another caterer altogether because this one’s going to think you’ve gone round the bend.” I reach over and pull her cell phone towards me, wondering when my normally laid back best friend turned into a raving lunatic but I’m going to guess it was 10 days ago when her mother called to add another 68 people to her guest list.

Joan glares at me for a moment and then sighs and leans back in the booth, morphing back into her usual self before my eyes. “You’re right. Thanks.” 

I shrug my shoulders. Joan has been the only reason I’m holding it together so well at the moment. Things in my life don’t exactly seem to be going as planned as of late. And let me tell you, I do love a good plan. You see, I had it all figured out. As soon as I graduated high school, I enrolled in the nursing program at the University of Wisconsin. The plan was to then apply to medical school and specialize in pediatrics. I’ve just always loved kids. But then I met Chad.

He was a first year medical student and things got serious between us very quickly. We ended up moving in together at the beginning of my junior year, and that’s when my plan fell apart. 

I already had an associates degree in nursing, and due to mounting bills and a lack of time, both of us being in school just didn’t seem to be in the cards, even with my scholarship. So, over the winter break that year I decided I wouldn’t return. I took a job at the University Hospital as an RN in the emergency nursing department because they were hiring and the money was good, and I quickly fell in love. The energy was high and I was surrounded by smart people all working to save lives. 

So, while Chad continued through school I worked in the hospital and grew my skill set. Chad graduated last May and we moved to DC so he could begin his residency at Sibley Memorial Hospital. I quickly found my current position, as an ER nurse at George Washington University Hospital, and I met Joan in orientation. She’d just relocated to DC from New York with her fiance, Sam. We immediately hit it off. Now, we both work the same shift on the trauma teams and I feel like I’ve known her my whole life. 

I pop the top off of the salad I’ve purchased and sigh. This spinach has seen better days, but I’m hungry and none of the other options in the cafeteria are much better so I tear the corner of the balsamic dressing pouch and dive in anyway. We usually don’t eat this late, but it’s been a busy day and Joan and I both submitted for overtime. I could use the money and she’s trying to curry favor so the other doctors will cover for her while she’s on her honeymoon. 

“So how’s the rest of it going?” I ask, gesturing to the canvas tote bag that Joan uses to haul her wedding planning information around and picking up a bridal magazine to flip through. 

“It’s going, I suppose. I just feel like there’s so much to do. I’m worried that I'm going to miss something. Couple that with the fact that my mother has invited half the free world and Sam’s guest list includes the First Family and I’m… a little overwhelmed.”

Why she, with her considerable resources, didn’t hire a wedding planner is absolutely beyond me, but it seems useless to point that out now. 

“What can I do to help,” I ask, stabbing a slice of tomato onto my fork and holding it up to examine. Of all days to forget my lunchbox.

“Oh, nothing. I just needed to vent.” She tears the lid off of her fat free Yoplait and gives it a disappointed look as I continue to stare at her. I know her well enough to know she’s full of it, and this isn’t the end of the conversation.

So I just wait a bit, arching my eyebrow and staring at her.

“But if you’re not busy on Thursday, Sam’s out of town and my invitations are supposed to be here and I need to stuff 304 envelopes.” 

And there it is.

“Kay.” I nod my head, making a mental note to stop for a bottle of wine on the way. She’s going to need it. “I’ll be there at 4.”

I flip to the next page in the magazine and hesitate for a moment, looking at a particularly beautiful wedding gown that they’re trying to sell. 

“Oh,” she leans over to get a better look at the page. “You’d look incredible in that.”

“I’m not in the market,” I tell her, turning the page to see a giant engagement ring, which prompts me to close the magazine and sigh a little more than I’d intended.

“Ok, spill your guts.” She leans forward and crosses her arms, glaring at me. It’s a move that she claims she’d mastered by the third grade. And considering the fact that she stems from a family of overachievers, I don’t doubt her. Now it’s apparently my turn to be honest. 

“No real changes, I suppose,” I admit to her. Joan knows the ins and outs of my relationship with Chad which has, over the course of the last two weeks, deteriorated significantly. Things were great when we first moved in together, or at least they seemed great. Maybe that was just the way I wanted to see things. But they started to fall apart after that. He stayed out late and became somewhat indifferent to me, but he kept telling me it was just the stress of school. So when he graduated and took the job here, I thought things would get better. 

They haven’t. In fact, they’re worse.

Joan is the kind of friend that doesn’t hesitate to make her opinions known to those around her, but she has this ability to do so without making you feel bad. So, yes, I’m well aware of her dislike for Chad. She’d never make me feel bad about the person I’m dating, or even make underhanded remarks. But she’s not going to let me make what she determines to be a bad decision without at least making her opinion known. And quite frankly, I love her for it. 

“Is that all I get?” Joan looks at my quizzically. “No real changes?” 

“I mean, it’s not like I’m just dying to get married, but I’d like to think that my relationship is at least moving in that direction.”

“Hmmm.” Is all she says as she looks into her yogurt cup again. When you get a non-response from Joan Lyman it’s because she’s already made her point known on the topic at hand, and you’re both well aware of her disapproval.

“I know.” I sigh. “But I think things will be better when money isn’t so tight and I can go back to school.”

“Hope so.” She tells me, though she doesn’t sound any more confident than I feel on the matter. 

I check my watch and rub my eyes, trying to pull myself together before heading back upstairs to finish out the shift. Joan gathers her binder to follow as we both discard our trash into the bins.

“You’d still look great in that dress,” she offers as we step onto the elevator. “It’s the man that would be standing across from you that needs an upgrade.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Hello, Donna.”

I look up to see the smiling face of my best friend’s fiance standing in the doorway of the staff breakroom.

“Sam! Hi!” 

“Have you seen her?” He stares down the hall, looking for Joan, and I can see the hope on his face that she’ll have a few minutes to spend with him. The two are crazy about each other. It’s adorable, really. Sam is head over heels for her, and she thinks he hung the moon. They’re the perfect couple. 

“She’s just finishing up with a patient. She’ll be here any second.You can come in to wait for her,” I gesture to the table. The breakroom is otherwise unoccupied, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Sam has always been friendly to me, and with as much time as I’ve spent with Joan over the last 18 months, I’ve gotten to know him too. He’s a good guy. 

“Oh!” Sam perks up, looking over to me. “I hear you’re going back to school for your BSN. Congratulations, Donna. That’s excellent.”

“Thanks,” I smile a bit shyly. I only received my acceptance letter yesterday so I’m a little bit surprised when Sam mentions it. I haven’t even told Chad yet. 

“I also wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your help last week with the wedding invitations. Things were busier than usual for me at work. It means so much to both of us that you’d spend your evening stuffing envelopes.”

“Happy to help,” I respond sincerely. I’ve spent a lot of my free time running wedding errands with Joan, as any Maid of Honor would, and it never goes unnoticed by Sam who is quick to offer a thank you, though it really is unnecessary. It’s been quite fun for me. 

It’s then that I hear what can only be described as a commotion heading towards us from down the hall. I immediately know what that means. Sam’s brought company.

I glance across the table and Sam cringes slightly when he realizes that his best friend and soon to be brother in law is shouting into his cell phone in a hospital corridor. And using some very pointed language in the process. Sam shakes his head slightly in mild annoyance, but mostly tunes out the noise behind him.

As if on cue, Joan enters the break room from a side door and Sam’s face lights up at the sight of her. 

“Hey there, JoJo,” he stands and crosses the room in quick strides to meet her, wrapping his arms around her and thoroughly kissing her hello. It’s only a quick second before they’re pretty much all over each other. 

I try not to impede on their private moment but it’s difficult to ignore. They’re like something out of a romance movie, whereas my love life currently resembles something closer to a documentary on the Hindenburg explosion. We’ve reached the point of the zeppelin take off, and the passengers on the film reel are enjoying leisurely cigarettes as they float along to meet their fate. I guess that little analogy explains why I haven’t told Chad about nursing school yet. 

“Well I’ve lost my appetite.” The statement pulls me from my thoughts as I turn my attention to the source of commotion from the hallway who is now standing at the end of the break room table, a borderline disgusted look on his face. 

Sam and Joan take their time unlocking their lips before joining us at the table where Josh has unceremoniously deposited two large, greasy bags of food. 

“I didn’t expect to see you today,” Joan leans in close and straightens Sam’s tie. This is my first indication that this visit wasn’t scheduled.

“Yeah. Well. Read this.” Josh states without preamble, dropping a file folder onto the table between Joan and I as he digs into the bags of food. 

“What is it?” Joan opens the folder and pulls out two large documents held together with binder clips.

“Medical jargon,” Josh explains around a mouth full of fries as he pulls his meal from the first bag. “It was revised by a Republican committee member though, so I just automatically assume they’re trying to screw me with my pants on and I’m not going to let them get away with it. I’d ask the First Lady to look at it but she’s out of town and I’m desperate. The italicized portion of the document is the language changes they’ve proposed during revisions, and the notes in blue pen are mine.”

“I would have never guessed,” Joan snarks under her breath. “What's the second document? It looks the same.”

“Yeah.” Josh confirms. “But I want two opinions. It’s for her.” He nods towards me as he roots through his pants pocket for a couple of quarters and then stands to quickly buy a sofa from the machine directly behind us.

“Me?” I question.

“She has a name.” Joan states, lightly reprimanding him. 

“That is, if you don’t mind, Donna.” Josh’s tone softens considerably as he slides back into his seat and addresses me, a drastic change from the way he speaks to his sister. 

“Oh. Umm, Okay.” I hesitantly pick up a document and begin to read over it carefully as I scoot my bag of baby carrots out of the way. The table quiets as Joan begins to read, with Sam looking over her shoulder and I start on the document as well.

“I, ah, brought you one too.” 

I look up to see Josh handing me a burger wrapped in foil, a softened expression on his face.

“Oh. Thank you.” I take it, somewhat surprised by his gesture.

“I didn’t know what you’d want on it, so I hope lettuce and tomato are okay? That’s what those two ordered.” He gestured towards Joan and Sam. 

“Perfect. Thanks.” I unwrap the sandwich as Josh places some fries between us and then peels back the buns of his burger for what can only be described as a quality check. He stares at it closely, examining a heavily charred patty loaded with ketchup before nodding slightly as indication it was somehow acceptable and returning it to the buns and beginning to eat, 

I reach for a few fries out of the paper cup between us. 

“Hey! You’re stealing my fries.” Josh announces. 

I blush a bit. “Sorry. I thought they were for everyone.”

I hear a thunk sound from under the table and Josh yelps a bit when Joan clearly kicks his leg.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Joan tells him without looking up from he reading. 

“I was only kidding,” Josh assures me with a smile, pushing the fries a little closer to me. 

I don’t know him very well, but I’ve met him a few times in passing. He’ll occasionally be along for the ride when Sam stops by the hospital, and one night about six months ago we all ended up at the same bar with Sam’s friends. I had to leave fairly quickly, though. Chad was ready to get home.

While I haven’t spent an extended amount of time talking to him, Josh’s reputation precedes him. Ask almost any woman in DC and they’ll know who he is. He’s like some larger than life political mind but with a fanclub of women who constantly throw themselves at him. It would be hard to believe if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Women even approach Joan in an attempt to befriend her and get access to her brother, a maneuver that does not play well with Joan.   
And while Josh certainly seems to be powerful, it’s the ladies man thing that I don’t quite understand. 

I mean, he’s certainly attractive in his own disheveled way. And he’s got an amazing smile. But every time I see him the man is tripping all over himself. He’s always wearing a rumpled suit and typically he’s running 30 minutes late and shouting at someone on his cell phone.

Still, he seems like a nice guy. According to Joan, the legend of Josh Lyman when it comes to women is simply that: legend. To her, he’s just her dorky little brother. And while I certainly don’t look at him that way, I don’t exactly see the man that’s described in the papers. Still, it’s not a stretch to think that all of the women in this town are chasing him. He’s all swagger and ego and frankly, kind of a mess. But there’s something about him that endears me to him, so I give him a little smile and go back to reading my copy of the bill.


	3. Chapter 3

I’m deep in concentration on a stack of paperwork when a cup of coffee appears in front of me. My surprise is only magnified when I glance up to see none other than Josh Lyman standing on the other side of the nurse’s station. 

“Great catch last night,” he tells me without preamble. 

“Oh.” I blush a bit, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s really no big deal.” After reading through the legislation that Josh brought by, Joan and I made our markups and went back to work. But just before we left the hospital a few phrases clicked into place in my mind and I caught what I perceived to be a loophole. Joan called Josh and explained it to him from what I’d written down for her on her way home. 

“It must be a big deal if he came all the way down here to thank you.” Joan walks up behind me and smirks before asking her brother. “Where’s my latte?”

“I didn’t bring you a coffee,” Josh announces as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You didn’t do anything to deserve coffee delivery.”

Joan doesn’t hesitate to reach over and pinch her brother, who lets out a fairly loud “ow!” in protest. 

“What was that for?” Josh rubs his arm in the offended area. “I came down here to do something nice for Donna because she helped me out yesterday and caught some very impactful language in a piece of legislation.”

I glance up and meet his eyes for the first time, likely showing a little more desperation than I’d prefer, in sincere thanks for the appreciation he's giving me. I’m having a rough morning and the coffee did more to warm me up than Josh will probably ever know. 

Josh’s mouth curls into a smirk and I know he’s about to say something snide to Joan but stops mid sentence and doesn’t deliver whatever retort he has planned. “Hey. Are you ok?” 

It’s then that I realize he’s staring at me curiously and I wish I could disappear. “Yes. Fine. Just a little tired is all.”

“You look more than a little tired,” he blurts. 

I look down at the patient file I’m holding and busy myself sorting through paperwork. I really don’t want to get into this right now. Unfortunately for me, it doesn’t seem like that's going to be an option when Joan steps closer and spots my red, puffy eyes. 

“What happened?” Her voice is icy and I know that she already knows the answer to her own question.

“It’s over.” I manage to get the words out but without the confidence and finality I was hoping to deliver them with. 

Even though she openly dislikes Chad, Joan doesn’t gloat. In fact, she immediately wraps me in a bear hug and gives me an extra squeeze. 

“You’re going to be okay, Donna. Better than okay. I promise,” she assureds after a moment, and we break apart. “Now. Tell me what happened.”

I give her the abbreviated version of events from the night before due to emotional exhaustion, but knowing full well that we will do a deep dive on the topic later. 

“So pretty much you told him you wanted to go back to school and he said no, and then when you stood up for yourself he told you that you weren’t ‘wife material,’ whatever that means, so you dumped him?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” I nod my confirmation. It obviously stings because the wound is still fresh, but even when it was happening I knew it was for the better. Chad only brought me down, and after this settles and I give it some time, I may be able to look at myself in the mirror and be proud again.

“Do you need a place to stay?” Joan offers. “Sam and I have plenty of room and we’d be glad to have you.”

“Thanks,” I give her a sad smile in return. “But I’m fine. The apartment is in my name and the lease isn’t up for a couple of months. He’s going to get his things tomorrow but he packed a duffel last night and he’s staying with someone named Chelsea.”

Joan’s eyes narrow to an angry glare at the realization of what I’ve just told her in a low key manner, but before she can say anything, we’re interrupted. 

“What a gomer.”

During my retelling of events, I’d sort of forgotten that Josh was here. He’s made his way around the desk and is now sitting in an empty office chair behind the half wall of the nurses station, and he’s helped himself to a box of donuts. 

“Excuse me?” I ask, more out of surprise than misunderstanding. 

“I said,” Josh repeats himself, dripping raspberry jelly on his tie in the process, “that guy sounds like a total gomer.” 

“Well thank you for your detailed analysis of the situation,” I bite off. Like I need some pompous jerk mansplaining my former relationship to me. 

“I’m just saying,” he scrubs at the jelly with a tissue, making the mess worse instead of better, “If he needs to be taught a lesson, I’ll sic the IRS on him.” He pops the rest of the donut into his mouth and puffs his chest out as he adds an overly cocky, “They work for me.”

“How were we raised by the same people?” Joan asks with a perplexed, if not horrified, look on her face, surveying the mayhem that is her younger brother. 

I roll my eyes at the mess Josh has managed to create and can’t help but to wonder how he manages to do his job effectively. 

I dig through the communal junk drawer at the shared desk and pull out a Shout Wipe, approaching Josh and scrubbing at his tie. The stain may take a little bit of work, but I can get it out, I’m sure. I loosen the knot a bit and remove it from his neck so I can clean it up. 

“Ugh. It’s on your dress shirt, too. Take it off so I can clean it up.”

“Why Donna,” he smirks as he unbuttons his Oxford and stands in his undershirt and dress pants. “We hardly know each other.”

“Don’t be a pig,” I tell him, rolling my eyes, “or I’ll make you walk around all day with a jelly stain on your tie.”

He shuts his mouth quickly at that. 

While I’m scrubbing the stain out of his tie and Joan is making a few notes in a patient file, her cell phone rings. Taking into account the huge smile that crawls across her face, I can probably guess who is calling. Being so close to someone that has found true happiness was really a major portion of my decision to permanently end things with Chad. I know the real thing is out there; I see it with Joan and Sam. And I know I’ve never had that with Chad. But I want to find it. 

“Good Morning,” she practically swoons into her cell phone, exchanging a few pleasantries with Sam before glancing over to Josh. “Yeah. He’s here.”

Josh, who is hovering over me as I scrub the tie to the best of my ability with my limited resources, glances over at the sound of his name. 

“Where’s your phone,” Joan asks him. “Darcy has been trying to call you all morning.”

“It’s in my backpack…” Josh states.

“...which is in your car,” Joan finishes the thought. 

“I don’t even know anyone named Darcy,” Josh protests. 

Joan relays the message to Sam and then shakes her head as she informs him that Darcy is, in fact, the name of his assistant. 

“Huh.” Josh furrows his brow as if this is completely new information to him. 

“Anyway,” Joan continues, still half talking to Josh and half on the phone to Sam, “Leo is about to blow a gasket and needs you in his office like 10 minutes ago. So get dressed and get going.”

Josh grabs for his keys and shrugs back into his shirt, the embodiment of a frantic burst of energy. He begins to mutter under his breath as he haphazardly tucks his Oxford into his pants. I can tell his mind is already somewhere else even though his body is here. I’m pretty sure I hear something that resembles a goodbye aimed in my general direction. I call his name no less than 3 times before he’s out the double doors into the hallway and I’m left holding his tie. 

I catch up to him at the elevator bank where he’s repeatedly clicking the down arrow and staring at the doors. 

“You forgot your tie,” I tell him, and he briefly gives me a look that makes me wonder if he even remembers why I’m holding it to begin with. 

I can’t help but shake my head a bit at his absentmindedness as I reach out and flip his collar up, looping the tie around his neck and quickly knotting it before straightening up his appearance. I find myself growing a bit flushed in this close proximity to him, but I’m pulled from my state by the ding of the elevator’s arrival. I give him a quick smile and step back as the doors open. 

“Thanks.” He gives me a goofy grin and just stands there for a moment. 

“Your elevator…” I state the obvious. 

“Oh. Right.” He jumps into gear and walks inside, quickly pressing the number for his desired floor. 

“Have a good day, Josh.” I give him a gentle smile. 

“You too.” He nods his head softly in acknowledgment as the doors close and I return to the OR to scrub in.


	4. Chapter 4

“Donna!” Joan waves as soon as I step into the bridal shop. 

I make my way over to her and greet her with a hug. It’s her last fitting before the wedding, and I’m trying on my bridesmaid dress as well. It’s just the two of us today, in for a quick appointment before we head off to meet her hairdresser for a run through. All in all, it should be a fun morning. 

And, quite frankly, I need to get out of the house. Chad moved his stuff out several weeks ago and I’ve quickly adjusted to single life. I’m by no means out on the town all the time, but it’s nice to live by my own rules. There are a lot more nights eating cereal in my pajamas on the couch than there used to be. It’s been nice to get to know me again.

I bring my attention back to the present when Joan’s name is called and we’re walked to the alterations department. I go first, slipping into the dress in the garment bag draped over my arm so someone can quickly hem the bottom while they pull Joan’s gown for her. 

I pull back the curtain to the dressing room and step onto the raised platform so the seamstress can pin my hem and Joan lets out a cat call. A few of the other women in the area turn their heads at our antics, but most of them just laugh and go back to what they’re doing. 

“Look at you, heartbreaker!” Joan doesn’t ease up. Part of it is probably because she knows I can use the confidence boost after Chad, but really that’s just the type of loud personality that she has. 

“You really picked gorgeous dresses,” I tell her as I look down and lightly smooth the silk over my torso, grateful that I’m not currently sporting a taffeta nightmare. They’re well constructed black gowns with spaghetti straps and a deep V neckline. It’s certainly nothing obscene, but they do highlight some of the bridesmaids finer assets. 

When the dress is pinned, I change back into my normal clothes and wait in a small armchair for Joan to get into her gown. I ooh and ahhh as soon as she steps out. She looks phenomenal.

“Sam’s going to lose his mind when he sees you,” I grin, standing to walk over to her. I’ve seen the dress before, I was there when she purchased it. But that was several months ago and now it’s been fitted to her and customized with the tiny adjustments she requested. 

“Do you think so?” She asks me hopefully. 

Joan is easily one of the most gorgeous people I know, but she’s incredibly humble about it. 

“I thought I’d wear my hair mostly down,” she continues, pinning back her loose auburn curls with her hands trying to get the full effect. “And with the veil I ordered.”

The top of her dress is similar in cut to the bridesmaid dress I’ll be wearing, but it ’s adorned with various beads to create an understated pattern, and it flares out with layers of billowing silk at the waist.

“I’m glad you went with this one,” I tell her. “It suits you.”

Joan looks in the mirror and smiles in appreciation as the store attendant places a cathedral length veil into her hair and then gently arranges it around her. 

Joan thanks the woman and tells her this is exactly what she’d been looking for. Though the two of us spend a lot of time together, we rarely see each other in anything other than scrubs or lounge wear. Aside from the scarring on her neck that is faded but still visible when her hair is pulled back, I tend to forget about the large portion of her body that is badly burned, and that she's often dependent on a steroid inhaler to breathe. She told me once that it happened as the result of a house fire when she was little, and that she spent a significant amount of time recovering from her injuries when she was a child. Though she doesn’t dwell on the long term effects, I know that she has several underlying health conditions. 

She told me the fire was a completely random accident, the result of a malfunctioning popcorn maker, but it became the reason she wanted to be a doctor. She doesn’t mention it much, but there was a little girl in the burn unit a few months ago and Joan made a point of visiting her every day. After the girl was discharged, she never mentioned it again. 

She stands confidently and looks at herself in the mirror for a few moments before she changes back into the long sleeve shift dress she wore to the store. We head out, strolling through Georgetown to a little brunch spot we like to frequent. Once we’re settled on the patio, mimosas in hand, we toast her pending nuptials with a clink and a unison “2 weeks” and settle in to our fast paced conversation about a wide variety of topics. 

“When does the family arrive I ask?”

“My mom and Sam’s mom fly in next Saturday and they’ll be here all week. Sam’s dad doesn’t get in until Thursday.”

“So, they’re both staying with you?” I raise my eyebrow at her. 

“No. God, no.” Joan says with a laugh. “Sam’s mom is staying in our guest room, which is fine. She’s pretty easy to deal with. And my mom is staying with Josh. I’m not sure how well that’s going to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“They just don’t always see eye to eye. Mom wants him to settle down and raise a family. Take over dad's place at the firm and live in Connecticut. That kind of thing. And Josh wants no part of that, so he doesn’t appreciate the constant nagging.”

“Does she say that to you?”

“To a degree, I suppose,” Joan admits. “But the difference is that I have a career that she understands and I’ve always had a social life. Now I’m marrying Sam and she sees me settling down. Josh, on the other hand, has no balance. He works. Nonstop. He forgets to eat, he wears the same suit for days and it literally takes months for him to return a phone call if he doesn’t need anything from you. Rather than moving closer to what my mom sees as a stable life, he’s running in the opposite direction. And tact isn’t exactly his strong suit, so the confrontation just makes her bristle all the more.”

“Well, that isn’t exactly hard to imagine,” I laugh softly. “But if he’s happy, what’s the problem?”

“She doesn’t understand how he can be, and honestly I’m not sure if, deep down inside, he really is or not.” Joan tries to explain. “You have to get Josh.”

“And?”

“And I don’t,” Joan admits. “Neither does she. And we all love each other and there’s no like, family drama or anything, but he’s a complex guy. I’m not sure if she or I will ever understand him, but Dad always did.” 

I shrug my shoulders. I don’t know Josh well enough to say with any degree of certainty whether or not this will be a disaster, but from what I do know about him, it’s not going to be a walk in the park. The few times I’ve met Sarah Lyman she’s been welcoming and generous, but she’s also very particular. She’s organized and methodical and always impeccably dressed. Let’s just say it’s a harsh contrast from the man I scrubbed jelly donut off of a few weeks ago. 

We continue to chat when a peculiar woman I’ve never met before approaches our table. 

“Margaret! Hi!” Joan stands up and greets the woman with a warm hug, which obviously throws the red head off a bit. 

“Hi Joan. I just wanted to say that I wish you the best next weekend and that I’ve personally assigned myself to the task of making sure that Josh and Leo arrive on time. Let me know if you’ll be needing anything else in the coming days. My office can get things done when need be.” The woman has an intensity to the gaze she’s giving Joan. 

“Well thank you, Margaret.” Joan answers. “That’s very nice of you. We’re looking forward to having you at the wedding. Give my love to Leo.”

With that the woman exits quickly and I turn my gaze back to Joan. “And that would be…?”

“Margaret Hooper.” she explains. “Leo McGarry’s assistant for the last 10 years and the only hope that my brother will be even remotely on time for the wedding.”

“And Leo is Mallory’s father,” I confirm, trying to connect the dots to the other bridesmaids. “And he’s Josh and Sam’s boss.” There's no doubt the Lyman’s are well connected. 

“Right. He was my father’s best friend, which is how I became so close to Mallory. And since Dad died Leo has really made sure he’s there for Mom and I. Josh too, but in a different way, I suppose. 

“What do you mean?”

“It has always been more of a tough love situation, which is exactly what Josh needs most of the time, but… I don’t know. Leo’s there for Josh if he needs him, but he’s his boss too. I guess it kind of adds to that lack of balance we were talking about earlier.”

“I could see that,” I admit. “And I’m sure the job is demanding. But Sam doesn’t live at the office, does he?”

“Well, sometimes,” Joan admits. “But he only stays when he needs to. Our jobs are demanding too so I understand where he’s coming from. And I know if he can come home he will. Josh on the other hand? He has nothing to go home to, so he stays at work.”

“He doesn’t date?”

“Only the occasional shrill woman who uses him to get ahead in politics, so that doesn’t take much of his time.”

“Well that must be a disappointment,” I smirk, “to all the members of his fan club.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Two weeks,” Joan declares in an over the top voice, throwing her hands into the air. “Fourteen glorious days.”

“Yeah, yeah. Gloat about it.” I smile, walking to my locker and grabbing my bag.

It’s been a long shift, but Joan’s wedding festivities begin today. Her family arrives, she spends the whole week prepping the final details, having her nails done and relaxing, and then she marries Sam on Saturday, followed by a honeymoon in St. Barts.

I, however, will be here, navigating the halls of GW with none other than Dr. Morton L. Keller, the single most difficult doctor to work beside in the hospital. He’s never been known to state his opinion directly but rather with a tsk-tsk-tsk if he disapproves if they way you’re handling a task- right or wrong.

“Elaine, Sam’s mom, lands at Dulles in 40 minutes. That’s cutting it close but I should be able to make it to the airport just in time to help her get her bags. I was hoping to fix myself up a bit but, surprise surprise, we had to stay late.”

“And then you’re having dinner with your mom, Sam and Josh?

“Yeah. Sam’s going to wrap up everything he can so he will be off tomorrow and then they’re meeting us at the rehearsal dinner location. Elaine is excited to see it.”

“Well, have fun,” I offer, quickly changing out of my scrubs and into a pair of yoga pants and tossing on a T-shirt and University of Wisconsin zip up hoodie. 

Joan’s cell rings and I can hear the irritated sound of her mother on the other end of the line. 

“I just finished my shift and I’m on the way to pick up-” she stops short as the voice grows in volume. “Ah… okay. Sorry, Mom. Let me call Sam. Yeah. Call you right back.”

I watch silently as Joan sets her jaw, punches the first number on her speed dial, and puts the call on speaker so she can get changed. 

“Let me speak to Josh,” she growls before Sam has the opportunity to say anything. 

“Hey.” Josh is clueless but I have a pretty good idea of what has happened. 

“Did you forget something today, Joshua?”

“Uhh… no?” He answers, though it’s obviously a trick question. 

“Oh really? Then maybe you’d like to tell me why our MOTHER has been standing at Reagan Airport for TWO HOURS waiting for her son to pick her up!?!”

“I wondered why she kept calling during my meeting,” he mutters. 

“What?!” Joan shrieks. 

“Nothing.” Josh has the good sense to not repeat himself. 

“Well?! Go get her!”

“Yeah that’s going to be a problem…” Josh begins. “Because I have a Senator waiting in my office and I didn’t even drive today. Can she just take a cab?”

“Joshua!” Joan is at the end of her rope. 

“What? The woman lived in and around New York City for fifty years. Now she can’t hail a cab at the airport?”

“Ugh!” Joan practically growls. “If she does, can she get into your apartment?”

“Oh.” He’s realized the flaw in his plan. “No. She doesn’t have a key.”

“I’ll go get her,” I offer softly. I didn’t have anything to do this evening anyway, and Sarah has always been exceptionally nice to me. 

“Really?” Joan’s face lights up. 

“Who is that?” Josh questions from the other end of the line, suddenly becoming defensive. 

“It’s Donna,” Joan informs him. “I’m going to give her my spare key to your place. She can pick up mom and take her to your house to get changed for dinner. Are you still coming to dinner?”

“About that…” The tone of Josh’s response is almost cringe worthy. 

“Whatever.” Joan is short with him. “I don’t even have time to care right now. Goodbye.”

“Wait! Joanie?” Josh calls from the phone. 

“Yeah?” She softens just a tad at the use of her childhood nickname. 

“I’d prefer,” Josh begins with a smirk I swear you can hear, “if you called it National instead of Reagan.”

Joan purses her lips for a second and glares at the phone before flipping it closed and ending the call on her brother. 

She looks at me and laughs though. As much as Josh drives her crazy, it’s all in good fun. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind picking her up?” She asks me again, pulling Josh’s spare off of her key ring and handing it to me. 

“Not at all. Seriously.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” she gives me a hug, followed by directions to Josh’s place. “Mom always gets turned around in DC,” Joan warns, “so she’d never be able to direct you there.”

“And hey! I’ve already paid for the tasting dinner tonight and Josh is flaking. You should come!”

“Oh, I don’t wanna squeeze in on your family time…”

“Please.” She waves her hand in the air as though the notion is absurd. “I could use an ally. It’s only a matter of time until someone mentions grandkids.”

I laugh and agree before walking to my car and heading straight for the airport. 

When I finally make my way into the terminal, Sarah is sitting at a coffee shop reading a book with her bags. 

“Ms. Lyman?” I ask hesitantly, feeling a little awkward about greeting her. 

“Donna! Hello, dear!” She immediately jumps up to greet me, pulling me into a hug. “Oh you are so sweet to come all the way out here and fetch me.”

“It’s really no problem,” I tell her. “Can I get one of these bags for you?”

She thanks me and hands me the rolling suitcase parked beside her while she grabs her garment bag and the oversized tote sitting next to her in a chair. 

We load into my car and I drive her to Josh’s place, chatting amicably on the way. It’s easy to see that she’s excited for the week ahead, and for the wedding itself. 

I know she’s close to Joan, and even though they drive each other a little crazy sometimes, there’s a lot of love there. 

“Now, I didn’t realize you were friends with Joshua as well,” Sarah states in a way that makes me think she’s fishing. 

“I’m not. I mean, I not not friends with him. But we don’t know each other all that well. Just when I’ve ended up going somewhere with Joan and we run into him with Sam.” But that’s not exactly true. He’s come by the hospital on several occasions and I’ve enjoyed talking to him. 

“But you know where he lives and you have a key to his apartment…” she leaves the end of the sentence open ended. 

“Oh!” I blush. “No, no. Joan gave me her spare key and directions over here when we left the hospital. I’ve never been here before.”

“Oh.” I must be crazy because I think she sounds almost disappointed. “I thought maybe he was getting out of the office occasionally.”

“I really wouldn’t know, Mrs. Lyman.” 

I smile awkwardly, not wanting to say anything either way, but the thing is that I kind of do know. According to Joan, he works crazy hours and spends his free time thinking about politics, too. From everything I’ve heard, the man is not interested in being anyone’s boyfriend.


	6. Chapter 6

“I just can’t imagine what could be more important than your own wedding,” Elaine laments as though this situation is the direct result of Sam’s upbringing. 

“Mom. Elaine. This is, quite literally, the least surprising thing to happen all week.” Joan lets out a sigh and gives me a pleading look. The groom, and the majority of the groomsmen, are all held up with a work emergency. The bride is taking it in stride, but the mothers are less than pleased by the departure from scheduled events. 

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” I offer. In Sam’s defense, the wedding doesn’t even start for another 2 hours. “I’ll personally bring the groomsmen up to speed as soon as they get here. And they can follow our leads. Right, ladies?”

The three women beside me nod their heads and agree with more enthusiasm than needed at a desperate attempt to diffuse the situation. 

“I’m just concerned,” Sarah states with a heavy emphasis on the last word.

“It’s beyond any of our control.” Joan tries and fails to keep things light. “They aren’t actually late though. Just giving us a heads up. I’m sure it’ll be fine. But if it isn’t, we’ll deal with that too.”

The Moms seem to take the hint and disburse, making their way towards the snack table. 

“He’ll be here,” I tell Joan confidently in an aside. “That man can’t wait to marry you.”

She grins for a moment, getting swept away in her thoughts of Sam, and goes back to having her hair done. 

And 45 minutes later, the wedding planner peeks his head into the bridal suite to announce the arrival of the groom on the premises.

We’re all dressed and ready a half hour before the wedding, and the photographer takes photos of our side of the wedding party prior to the ceremony. Much to the dismay of Elaine and Sarah, Joan and Sam share a private first look moment. And a few moments after that we’re all lined up and ready to walk down the aisle. 

Josh arrives at the last possible moment, his cell phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear as he comes through the door, quickly ending a very aggressive sounding call and flipping his phone closed. He is literally tucking his tuxedo shirt in as he scrambles over to get in line next to me near the double doors that lead to the garden area where the event will be held. 

“Hi, Ma. Hi, Joanie.” He half bellows, his hair looking completely disheveled. “You both look beautiful.”

The man’s a charmer, there’s no doubt about that. 

“Where’s your tie?” I whisper harshly to him as the music begins and the rabbi walks down the aisle. 

He pulls a wadded up bow tie out of his pocket and hands it to me, giving me a puppy dog stare. 

“Can you do it? That morning at the hospital you were able to…”

“Hold these.” I command, giving him my bouquet and quickly knotting the tie. “And turn your cell  
phone on silent. Ugh. You don’t have a boutonnière.”

Josh looks around for a moment, trying to find a solution. “Give me one of yours.”

“What?”

He nods to the full bouquet of red roses I’m holding and I roll my eyes at him but realize I have no other choice. 

“You’re infuriating.” I snap one of the stems off the back of the arrangement and fasten it into place with a floral pin that was holding a piece of satin ribbon in place. It’ll have to do. 

“Thanks.” He gives me a grin and offers me his arm, escorting me to my designated place for the ceremony before taking his own next to Sam. 

Joan looks amazing walking down the aisle. I glance over at Sam, who is barely holding it together, and I can’t help but notice that Josh is looking a little sentimental as well. 

I tear up as the two exchange eloquently written vows. Sam has a way with words, there’s no doubt, but Joan put a lot of effort into hers, and even sent them to the other writer at the White House for a polish. I think his name is Toby. He’s a groomsman, too. 

Sam and Joan are pronounced Mr. & Mrs. to a round of applause that echoes through the garden and we all file back down the aisle. The bridal party is directed off to the side for more photos while the guests head for cocktails on the balcony. 

We finish up outside and are introduced to the reception, and join Joan and Sam on the dance floor. 

Josh holds me delicately, and he’s a rather good dancer. I’m not sure why any of this surprises me, but it does. Just given his appearance and general demeanor, I wouldn’t have imagined him being good at something that requires you to slow down and move in sync with someone else. But then again, he was raised with Joan and they were exposed to a lot of social niceties. 

“You look really nice.” He moves in a little closer and speaks softly to me. His gentle voice does something to me that I wasn’t expecting. 

“Oh. Thank you.” I blush. “You do too.”

He lets out a chuckle at my response though I’m not quite sure why. The man can wear a tux. There’s no doubt about that.

He leads me around our section of the dance floor a bit, and I easily fall into step with him. 

“Are you, ah, here with anyone?” He asks somewhat shyly.

“Well, I’m friends with the bride.” I try for a witty retort. “What about you?”

He grins at me but gives his head a little shake to indicate that no, he didn’t bring a date. “Save me a dance?” 

“What’s this?” I retort, striving again for playful banter.

“This is an obligation. I mean, save me another dance, a real one, where you choose to say yes to me.” 

His smile disarms me and I agree timidly. I’m not sure when I became so shy around him, but I can’t find the right words at the moment.

The music stops abruptly and Josh and I separate, both clapping for Joan and Sam as we make our way to the head table. 

The reception quickly moves into speeches. I go first, making my way through the heartfelt wishes for a happy marriage and telling the story of the time I met Joan. Though I’m nervous speaking in front of so many people, I make it through all of my notecards without a stumble and I think it goes fairly well. The room seems receptive. Joan and Sam give me warm hugs and I take a seat, giving Josh the floor. 

He takes the microphone and stands, without any notes, and begins to introduce himself. Part of me wonders if this is something he’s forgotten about, but even though he’s disorganized there’s something that tells me he won’t let Joan and Sam down. 

He owns the room when he speaks, and he has my attention as well. It’s clear he’s put a considerable amount of care into this. We make eye contact and trade a few smiles as he makes us all laugh a few times. He’s sentimental and he’s loving. He tells the newlyweds that he’s certain his father would be proud and the room joins them in a toast. He shakes Sam’s hand before pulling him into a brief hug, and then he pulls Joan in close. The two are clearly sharing a little moment and though I can’t hear what he’s saying I can see Josh speaking to her as the crowd goes back to what they were doing. I see Josh give her a kiss on the cheek and another quick squeeze before they both take their seats, Joan with misty eyes. It’s a side of Josh that I wouldn’t have anticipated existing. 

We all share a meal and the guests mingle. I don’t really know anyone except a few people from the work table, but they’re all doctors and we’re mostly just acquaintances. 

“How about that dance?” I turn when I hear Josh’s voice and he extends his hand to me. 

I accept and he leads me onto the dance floor as the band plays a slow tune. We sway to the music for the duration of the song before something more up beat begins. There’s a crowd on the dance floor and everyone is enjoying themselves. We dance the night away but somehow Josh always finds me for the slower songs. It seems like our bodies move closer to each other with each dance, and I begin to relax into his arms at the feeling of his thumb gently caressing me from where his hand rests on the small of my back. 

Eventually we all line up to give Joan and Sam a grand send off to begin their life together. The band stops and the lights come up a bit. I’m honestly sad to see the night end. 

I’m gathering my small handbag as I see the groomsman I know to be Charlie yell over to Josh from a side door. 

“Come on, man. We’re all heading to the lounge on the other side of the lobby.”

“Yeah.” Josh bellows his response. “Okay.”

He turns to me and offers his arm once again. “If you’re up for it,” he smiles, “there’s some people I’d really like for you to meet.”


	7. Chapter 7

We arrive at the lounge and Josh nods a silent hello to the large men in suits outside the door before leading us over to a seating area in the far corner. Keeping one hand gently on the small of my back he guides me towards his friends as he yanks on his bow tie, causing it to hang casually around his collar as he undoes the top button letting out the slightest sigh of relief. 

We approach the group, already entrenched in multiple, fast paced conversations and laughter, and Josh snakes his arm around me and rests his hand on my hip, pulling me close. 

“Everybody. This is Donna. Donna… this is everybody.”

I’m met with a chorus of hellos as Josh does a quick rundown of everyone’s name, pointing them out to me. 

“You met Toby and Charlie. This is Zoey, CJ, Carol, Cathy, Margaret, Bonnie, Ginger, Ed and Larry.”

He gestures towards an open chair and I sit as he takes my drink order, making a quick trip to the bar. The others are welcoming enough but they’re already deeply involved in conversation, with the exception of Toby who is sitting silently next to me sipping a glass of scotch and rolling an unlit cigar between his fingers. 

“You’re the one that found the loophole in HR286.” It's more of a statement than a question. 

“Well, I don’t know about finding anything, I just gave Josh my opinion on the medical verbiage.”

He gets an odd looking smile on his face and lets out a puff of air, almost in amusement. “You found a loophole that the GOP disguised well enough to get through committee and review by the west wing of the White House that would have meant the end of family planning for 1.8 million women.”

I blush a little bit, feeling uncomfortable at what I think is meant to be praise. “Glad I could help, I guess.”

With that he lets out a loud burst of laughter, looking around, though no one is paying attention to him. “She’s glad she could help.”

Josh appears beside me once again, handing me a rusty nail and placing his own Sam Adams on the small coffee table in the middle of us. There aren’t any remaining seats so he perches on the arm of the chair I’m occupying and listens for only a second before jumping into the conversation without a hitch. 

He makes a one line joke directed at Ed, or maybe Larry, and CJ rewards him with a raucous burst of laughter. I can’t help but smile at her amusement. 

It’s somewhat intimidating to be sitting here, with all of these important people, but everyone seems so kind and welcoming. It probably doesn’t hurt that most of them are a little bit drunk. 

I glance over at Josh’s beer and he’s barely touched it. He typically has a drink in hand but he doesn’t consume much. Funny, I’m the same way. I’ve had a combined total of about 1.5 glasses of wine in the last 5 hours. I was too busy dancing to bother with the bar. 

I’m pulled back from my thoughts as Josh places his hand gently on my arm and asks me if everything is alright. I think that he’s aware of how overwhelming this can be, but I assure him that I’m fine and move over a few inches simply to be closer to him. 

CJ Cregg stands at one point and makes her way over to me, squeezing onto the end of the couch next to Larry. Or maybe that’s Ed?

We chat for a while and I genuinely enjoy it. She seems very warm and down to Earth, though I know that she’s a force to be reckoned with at the podium. I may not be in politics but this is still a company town. I know who these people are and the power they wield. 

Someone mentions last call and someone else mentions splitting cabs. Before I can make heads or tails of anything the group is sectioning off and heading towards the front to call it a night and return to their respective homes. 

“Do you have a room?” Josh asks though I’m pretty sure he knows that I do. The bridal party is staying at the hotel as we all got ready here and have to be back in the morning for brunch.

“Yes. Fourth floor. You?”

“Sixth.” He states as we stroll towards the elevator bank together and he presses the up button. 

We wait in silence and step inside together. Josh presses the button for his floor and, after a pause so short it’s barely noticeable, mine. We stand next to each other and stare straight ahead, my hands placed neatly in front of me on my clutch and his shoved into his pockets. 

The ding signaling the elevator’s arrival on my floor cuts through the silence. I begin to move forward as I should theoretically be stepping off, but I pause, glancing over to Josh and wishing he’d tell me not to go rather than bidding me goodnight. 

When I look at him I see a vulnerability I wasn’t expecting and a glimpse of something else, too. Hopefulness, perhaps? He’s leaving the ball in my court. 

It doesn’t take me more than a second to know what I want. I press the button to close the doors once again and turn to face him. He’s giving me a full dimpled grin and I swear I go weak in the knees. 

“The thing is, I’m not ready for the night to be over,” I tell him, trying to keep things playful. 

“Good.” He speaks huskily to me but remains where he’s standing, hands in pockets, as he stares at me with an intensity that causes my temperature to rise. “Me either.”

He makes quick work of getting us into his hotel room and it’s only seconds before his lips are on mine and I’m practically ripping his tux off as we fumble towards the bed. 

This is so completely unlike me, but even in the heat of the moment I have the clarity to be certain I’m not going to regret this in the morning.


	8. Chapter 8

The wake up call rings in Josh’s room and it feels as though I’ve only been asleep for a few minutes. He reaches over to the nightstand and feels around blindly for the phone as I peel my eyes open and glance at the clock, realizing that I have, in fact, only been asleep for less than an hour. 

I should get up and get ready for brunch, but I can’t seem to find the willpower to pull myself away from where I’m tangled up with Josh. When he softly kisses my lips and pulls me closer to him, all hope of getting out of bed in a timely fashion is lost. 

Though Josh typically comes across as chaos embodied, the man I spent last night with was anything but frenzied. He was attentive and generous and very focused. I have no complaints. 

We lay in bed for a while, slowly waking up and exploring each other’s bodies again. Eventually I can’t delay the inevitable anymore and I pry myself out of bed. His phone rings as I’m gathering my clothes and getting ready to zip myself back into the bridesmaid dress. 

He hastily tells whoever is on the other end of the line that he will be in the office that afternoon and flips his phone shut again. 

“Here,” he’s standing next to me in a flash, offering the hotel's big, fluffy robe instead of the black silk dress I’m about to shimmy into. He holds it open and I pause for a moment. “This will be more comfortable. And warmer.”

“Josh, I think you have to pay for those if you take them,” I laugh. 

“Okay.” He drapes it around my shoulders. “So now you have a new robe.”

“You’re a very sweet man,” I state. It’s more of a quiet observation, I suppose, than a statement. He seems uncomfortable at my words which makes me recoil a bit. I didn’t mean to say something to make him think I’m some kind of clingy woman. “Well, I better get going. Don’t want to be late for brunch.”

“Yeah. Right. Me too.” He rubs his hands coarsely over his face and up into his hair, then briskly massages his own scalp. When he’s done, he looks more alert. It’s as though he’s given himself a jump start. I’m slightly amused by the sight of his hair sticking up on end as he follows me to the door.

As I reach for the handle and turn to say goodbye. He’s right there, leaning against it to prop it open for me as he pulls me close and thoroughly kisses me goodbye. I’m left slightly stunned by his actions and can’t help but smile goofily at him. Fortunately for me, he’s returning the grin. 

“See you down there.” He tells me as I make my way to the elevator and back to my room, clad in a fluffy white robe and holding last night's dress. It might not be the finest start to the morning but last night was worth every second of the looks I received from strangers in the hallway. 

I quickly shower and dress for brunch before heading downstairs to the ballroom. When I arrive, the room is already fairly full of people mingling and helping themselves to a coffee bar and elaborate spread of food. 

I immediately spot Josh in the far corner talking to Sam’s father. Though he’s mid conversation I can tell he’s aware of my presence. I meet his gaze from across the room and he gives me a smirk of acknowledgment. 

I pour myself a cup of coffee and Joan finds me almost immediately, talking a mile a minute. It sounds like the prior evening lived up to all that she’d dreamt it would be and I couldn’t be happier for her. 

We’re joined by a few other people and as much as I’m enjoying the conversation, I can’t quite concentrate on much more than where Josh is in the room. I swear I can feel him stealing glances at me. Eventually he makes it over to my side, standing far enough away from me that we appear to be having a casual conversation but closer enough that he can reach out to touch me as we speak. 

“Josh, don’t bore my friends with politics.” Joan appears from seemingly nowhere, with a huge smile on her face.

“I hate to break it to you, Mrs. Seaborn, but you’re surrounded by politicians now.” He bats back.

“Well thank god I’ve still got Donna,” she announces with a flourish. 

“Yeah.” Josh smiles. “Thank god for Donna.”

It’s in that moment, however, when I wonder whether what I’ve done that will alter my friendship with Joan. I sincerely hope not, but right now isn’t the time to find out. Today is about Sam and Joan. 

Josh is pulled away by a ringing cell phone and steps outside of the ballroom. 

“Did you have fun last night?” Joan asks hopefully. 

Boy, did I ever. “Yes. Everything was lovely,” I assure, keeping my response fairly generic.

“And I heard you went to the lounge with the White House staffers,” she continues, putting me slightly on edge. “Charlie said they enjoyed getting to know you. But I’m sorry if you felt like you had to go. Josh can be overbearing sometimes. Just tell him to leave you alone.”

“Oh. No. I enjoyed myself.” It’s an understatement to say the least but now is not the time nor the place. 

Joan shrugs her shoulders. “Alright. Well don't say I didn’t warn you.”

She’s pulled away by Sam’s aunt so I make a plate with a few pieces of fruit and a mini quiche and find a seat near the other bridesmaids.

The guests mingle for a short duration but most people are ready to head to the airport or get home. And there’s no doubt Joan and Sam are ready to be on their way as well. 

I say my goodbyes to everyone at the table and give Joan a hug. I glance over to see Josh deep in conversation with Toby so I grab my purse and head back towards my room. I’m barely out the double doors to the ballroom, however, when I hear him softly call my name. 

I turn around and he’s right on my heels, practically skidding to a stop in front of me. 

“Hi.” He grins.

“Hi.” 

I wait for him to continue but he stands in front of me in silence, fidgeting a bit as if he is all the sudden overcome with nerves. 

“Can I call you?” He asks, his brow furrowed as he looks at the ground. 

“I’d really like that,” I assure, taking his phone from his hand and flipping it open. I type my info into a contact and flip it shut again, giving him a little smile as I hand it back to him. I know it was just one night together and I am probably making way too much out of this. And on top of that, he’s my best friend's brother. But I find him handsome and sweet and incredibly charming. 

God, I hope he calls.


	9. Chapter 9

I don’t recognize the number calling my cell phone, but I pick up anyway. I’m pleasantly surprised to hear Josh on the other end of the line.

“Josh Lyman.” He uses his last name to clarify as though I would have been confused as to who he is. 

“How are you?” I ask because he sounds a little flustered, to be honest.

“I’m... fine.” He pauses as though he had to think about the answer. 

“Well that’s good to hear,” I tell him with a bit of amusement. The man is unlike anyone else I’ve ever met, that’s for sure. 

“So listen,” he begins, picking up the pace of the call as though we have an agenda. “That bill you looked over for me a few months ago? I need to talk to you about it. Can you meet me at the bar at The Four Seasons around 9?”

“Oh.” I mask my disappointment at the notion that he simply needs my help with a project. “Sure. I’ll see you there.”

“I’ll be sitting near the piano,” he states. 

“Josh, I saw you yesterday. I think I’ll be able to identify you.”

“Right. 9?”

“I’ll see you then.” I end the call and continue to walk home, grateful that I have a little bit of time to find something to wear. 

It occurs to me later, as I’m checking my hair in the mirror of the ladies room, that I want this to be a date, not a casual drink with a friend. And maybe that’s what Josh really wants, too. From what I know about him, he's a little hard to read. But from the time I’ve spent with him I really think there’s more to the story, and I’d like to get to know him. 

I spot him in a corner booth and make my way across the bar. He stands as soon as he sees me gently placing his hand on my arm to greet me as he motions towards the empty chair and discreetly signals a waiter. 

We chat casually while we sip our drinks and he seems to begin to loosen up a bit. The tension that seemed to be radiating from him earlier is certainly disappearing and I even caught the hint of a smile. 

It’s nearing midnight the next time I check the time, and I’m shocked to say the least. I must look exhausted because Josh pays the bill and offers to walk me home. I explain that I most certainly do not live within walking distance, and explain that I’ll take a cab. 

Josh’s face immediately contorts in a strange way, as though he’s incredibly uncomfortable with the notion of not getting me home safely. It’s fairly evident that this isn’t a ploy to go to my place and get me into bed. 

“I’ll split the cab with you. The driver can drop you off and then take me home.”

“You’re going to ride an extra half hour in a cab to make sure I get home safely?” I’m staring at him like he’s grown a second head. . 

“Yes?” He’s already hailing a cab and opening the door so I slide in, deciding this is sweet and not… insane. 

I give the driver my address and ride in a comfortable silence next to Josh. Though it’s not typical for me to be so forward, I decide to put myself out there with Josh. 

As the driver turns onto my block, I lean over and whispered huskily in Josh’s ear. “Why don’t you come up with me?”

He freezes for a moment, almost as if he’s taken aback, but then looks at me with smoldering eyes. 

He pays the driver as soon as we come to a stop and we’re out of the cab and up the stairs in no time. Josh can’t seem to keep his hands off of me and I’m the same way with him. I fumble around for my keys and somehow manage to unlock the door and pull him inside. 

We don’t make it any farther than the doorway before he kisses me frantically and I begin to tug at his belt buckle. We stumble into my bedroom but we never lose our momentum. 

An hour later I lay tangled next to him in the sheets, a very satisfied smile on my face. It’s not my first of the evening. 

His breathing is beginning to regulate a bit and he wraps an arm around me, pulling me close. I rest my head on his chest and can feel his heart thumping soundly. I close my eyes and just relax. I’m not sure why I feel so comfortable around a man that I, in all reality, hardly know. But I do. I feel secure and I find myself dozing in and out for a few minutes. 

Eventually Josh gets up and after a quick trip to the bathroom, I can hear him in my kitchen. He brings me a glass of water, that he’s clearly had some of as well, and sits on the side of the bed. 

“I better head out,” he states. 

“Josh, it’s 2:00 in the morning.”

“I should probably call a cab.” He looks out the window. 

“You could stay.” My voice shakes more than I’d like it to. 

He turns to look at me, and opens his mouth, trying to put his thoughts together. 

“Come on.” I pull the covers back on the spot next to me before he can say anything and he crawls back into bed without hesitation.

It’s only a few minutes before he’s softly snoring and I doze off quickly after that. 

The beeping of my alarm wakes me a few hours later and I pry my exhausted eyes open, turning off the source of the noise. 

“Not yet,” Josh grumbles, pulling me back towards him and dozing off again. 

“Stay there,” I tell him. “I’m going to get ready. I’ll drop you off at your place on my way in.”

I take a quick shower and rub a towel on my wet hair before wrapping myself in a robe and sneaking quietly back into my room. I change into scrubs and put on a pot of coffee while I throw a few things into my lunchbox. 

Josh shuffles out in his boxers, his wild hair sticking up in a million directions. He’s unbelievably handsome. 

“What time is it?” He rubs his eyes. 

“6:45.” I answer plainly. 

“You go to work early,” he yawns. 

“You stay at work late,” I counter.

“Not always,” he kind of whines, but the look on his face says he can’t even convince himself. 

“Well I don’t always go in early. In fact, this is unusual.” I smile at him. “But if you grab your things I’ll drive you home on my way in.” 

“Kay.” He quickly dresses while I gather my things. 

He offers to carry my bag and holds my insulated mug of coffee as I lock up. When we approach my car on the street I pop the trunk and he loads my bag and takes a sip of my coffee as he climbs into the passenger seat. I don’t say anything but I find it somehow reassuring that he’s comfortable around me. 

He gives me directions to his place but I remind him that I know where he lives. I did, afterall, drop his mother off from the airport. There aren’t any spot in front of his place but I pull over enough that the other cars can pass me while he gets out. 

He leans over to my side and gives me a kiss before opening his door. It throws me off a bit and I stare at him for a few seconds with a grin on my face. 

“You don’t have to look so surprised when I kiss you goodbye,” he tells me. “I enjoy it.” 

“Josh?” I call as he steps out of the car. “You don’t have to pretend you need something work related when you want to call me. I enjoy it.” 

He gives me a little smirk.

“Have a good day, Donna. I’ll call you”


	10. Chapter 10

I have a missed call on my cell phone when I walk out to my car after work, but this time I recognize the number.

I call him back but he’s clearly not looking at his phone when he answers with a harsh, “yeah?”

“Hello, Joshua.” I practically croon in an effort to contradict his tone.

“Donna?” I hear him fumble the phone and then come back a little more clear. “Donna? Are you there?”

“I’m here.” I try not to laugh at the state he sounds to be in. “I saw that I missed your call?”

“Oh. Um, yeah. I didn’t know if you had plans later tonight?”

“Well it’s 10:30 now, so no, I can’t say that I have plans later tonight.”

“Right.” He’s silent for a moment.

“Would you like to come over?” I ask, knowing that’s most likely exactly what he wants and saving us both a little bit of time. It will make the 4th time this week we’ve seen each other.

“Ahkay.” I can hear him smile through the phone. “Did you eat yet? I can pick up some Chinese on the way.”

“Sounds great,” I admit. “I’ll see you in 30 minutes?”

“Kay.” 

I get home as quickly as possible and toe off my shoes, wishing I had time to take a shower. But before I can even contemplate what to do next he knocks on the door. I answer with a tired smile. I really am exhausted. I’m not quite sure why I thought it would be a good idea to get together tonight.

“Hi.” He leans in to kiss me softly before stepping inside and placing the bag of takeout on my counter as I lock up behind him.

He furrows his brow and studies me closely as he drops his backpack in the entry. “You look tired.”

“Gee, thanks.” I roll my eyes. Just what every girl wants to hear. 

“Hey, wait.” He turns me around and has the decency to look sheepish. “I just meant that you seem tired. And I should know… I’m tired too.”

“It was a long day,” I admit. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

He pulls me close. “Why don’t you go take a hot bath?”

“I don’t have a tub,” I sigh. 

“Oh. That’s right. Well, next time you have a long day we need to end up at my place. But for now, how about a hot shower? And some comfortable pajamas? I’ll warm up the food and find something on TV.”

I blink a few times, staring at him with what I’m sure is an odd expression on my face. He raises his eyebrows at me in return before slowly kissing my temple and gently taking me by the hand. 

“Come on.” He leads me into the bedroom and starts the shower for me. 

“Would you like to join me?” I flirt. 

“That’s not what I was trying to imply,” he tells me shyly.

“I know. But I’m offering.”

“Kay.” It doesn’t take him long to make up his mind and grin at me as I take his hand and lead him towards the shower. And it doesn’t take me long to have forgotten about my long shift at work and focus on the man steaming up the shower with me. 

Later, long after the water has run cold, we step out and towel off. He stops as he’s rubbing the water out of his hair with a towel and kisses me for a rather long time. It’s not the kind of kiss that leads somewhere, but rather the kind that allows you to remain content where you are in that moment. 

He grabs my robe from the hook on the back of the door and opens it for me to step into before turning me to face him and gently folding the tie ends over one another. He kisses me gently once again and grabs his discarded boxers and undershirt before heading back into the kitchen. 

We reheat the Chinese and sit on the couch to eat it, clicking on the TV to find something to watch in the process. We settle on an old black and white Abbott and Costello movie, and Josh tells me about watching these as a kid. His grandfather, he explains, found them to be very funny 

“Did you spend a lot of time with him as a child?” I ask, curious.

“Well… yeah.” Josh gives me an odd look. “He lived with us.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” Though Joan is my best friend, I certainly don’t know everything about her childhood.

“My father’s father,” Josh clarifies. “He died when I was 6. Just before…” He trails off but quickly clears his throat. “Anyway. We spent a lot of time together. He’d give Joanie and I a little treat, usually a marzipan candy that he kept hidden away on top of the refrigerator, and we’d watch these movies. He stayed with me during the day after Joanie started school. He taught me all sorts of things, and relayed to me the history of our family.”

“That sounds nice,” I tell him softly, gently placing my hand on his leg. “He must have been very special to you.”

“He was.” Josh gives a fond smile. “We were very close.” 

Though his reputation may portray him otherwise, it’s clear to me that Josh feels things very deeply. 

“What about you?” he asks.

“What about me?”

“Were you close to your grandparents?”

“A normal amount, I suppose. My mother’s parents live in Nebraska so we’d see them for the major holidays. And my father’s parents were in Florida, so we’d drive down there for a week every year.”

“From Wisconsin? Isn’t that… far?”

I laugh a bit. “Well, yes. But my family didn’t typically jet off to tropical vacations. We’d load into the back of my parents station wagon and drive for a solid day. My dad would refuse to stop unless we were out of fuel, my sister would complain that she was bored, my brother would get carsick and I’d be stuck in the middle. Pretty typical vacation.” I give him a grin to let him know that though I’m complaining, the memories are still quite fond. I just think it was likely very different than how he and Joan grew up. Though she’s never outright said it, I get the feeling that their upbringings were quite privileged.

“That sounds nice,” he tells me, taking another bite out of his carton of food. “So, you have a brother and sister.” 

“Yeah.” I smile. “Rob is an electrician outside of Chicago. He and his wife have two little girls. And Lilli is a first grade teacher in Madison. She and her husband have a new baby boy.”

“Rob and Lilli.” Josh nods his head as though he’s trying to commit their names to memory. “Got it.”

“Well technically,” I tell him as a stab a piece of broccoli with a chopstick, “it’s Roberto and Lilliana.” 

“What?” He gives me a smile and a little laugh. “And Donna?”

“Donnatella.” I admit, blushing a bit. I’m not sure why I even brought up the topic. I hate my given name. 

“Donnatella.” It rolls gently off of his tongue as though he’s considering it. “Donnatella.”

I take a shaky breath in and immediately reconsider my earlier statement about disliking my name. I think I’d like anything that he said to me in that tone of voice. 

We talk through the rest of the movie, Josh telling me about his passion for baseball and naysaying my love of the Brewers. When the credits roll he flips off the tv and helps me gather the empty containers of food.

“Come on,” he yawns and stretches. “Let’s get to bed. We’ve both got early days.”

I don’t make a big deal out of his actions, but I smile softly to myself. I guess this means the stay over is implied.

As soon as we lay down, we both seem to miraculously forget how tired we were a few minutes before.


	11. Chapter 11

“Welcome back!” I greet Joan with a hug. Boy, am I glad to see her. Dr. Keller has been driving me crazy all week with his constant tsk tsk’ing. “How was it? Tell me everything.”

“Like you have a choice.” Joan grins. She can out talk the best of them, and she knows it. “I’m going to make you sit through a roll of photos at lunch.” 

She begins to give me the rundown of their trip, sparing no detail, between reading through some patient charts. She’s telling me about running to board their connecting flight when she stops mid sentence, as though she’s just remembered something more exciting. “OH! I brought you a magnet, of course.” 

“Thanks!” I certainly wasn’t expecting anything, but the magnet collection inside my locker is becoming somewhat widely known. I haven’t done much traveling, but I have such an interest in the world around me that my coworkers have started bringing me souvenir magnets from their travels. It’s a very sweet gesture on all of their parts, and now the inside of my locker is plastered with small mementos from around the world.

She tells me about the room, the beaches and the sunset sail trip. She swoons over the bottle of champagne and candlelit dinner on the beach that Sam arranged to surprise her. She couldn’t stop smiling if she tried, and I’m thrilled for her. She deserves the happiness. Eventually she checks her watch and announces that she’s going to say hello to the night crew before the shift change meeting. 

“I’m right behind you,” I tell her, making one more note.

She’s only been gone for a minute when the double doors to the department open. I glance up out of reflex more than anything, but I’m surprised to see Josh approaching me. 

“Oh, good. Glad you’re right here.” He kisses me casually as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

“Hey,” I beam at him. While I’m not quite sure why he’s here, I’m always glad to see him, even if we only parted ways a few hours ago. 

“I think we switched pagers this morning,” he tells me, which isn’t a surprise since he was called into The White House at 4am. “I wanted to try and catch you before either of us missed something important.”

“I forgot my-“ Joan stops mid sentence. “Josh? What are you doing here?”

“Hey Joanie. How was the trip?” He doesn’t answer her but he certainly doesn’t lie. And Joan is off to the races recounting her amazing week in the islands. The man clearly knew what he was doing when he asked. 

Joan puts the stack of folders she’s carrying with the one she forgot. She wanders over behind the nurses station to grab a lens cleaning wipe from the drawer and wipe off her glasses as she continues to talk. I take the opportunity to round the desk to the other side and stand a respectable distance from Josh as I unclip my pager and hand it over to him out of Joan’s line of vision. He does the same and we make the exchange. 

“Kay, well, sounds like you had fun.” Josh randomly interjects into Joan’s narrative, though he wasn’t listening to begin with. “Gotta go.”

“Okay… bye.” Joan gives him a look like he’s grown a second head but goes back to what she was doing. 

“See you tonight,” he whispers huskily in my ear as he walks behind me, lightly touching the small of my back. I’m going to have to really try to focus to not think about that all day. 

I throw myself into my work and have a successful day. Joan is content to tell me about a nice couple that she and Sam met on a sunset sail trip. Even when she asks what’s new with me, I take a page out of Josh’s book and easily deflect, getting her back to talking about the trip. 

It’s not that she’s self centered, it’s not that at all. She’s just deliriously happy right now. And I am too, but I’m not quite sure what to say about it. True, I’ve spent 8 of the last 10 nights with Josh, but in the scheme of things I have no idea what that really means. It just feels weird to say ‘oh by the way, I hooked up with your brother while you were away. Don’t worry, it's just a fling and neither of us were looking for anything lasting when we slept together on your wedding night. But just so you know, he is phenomenal in bed.’ 

I check my phone when I’m headed out to my car, but I don’t have any missed calls. Josh must still be at work. I take the opportunity to run some errands and catch up on my laundry. I still haven’t heard from him at 9, so I begin my evening routine and crawl into bed with a book. It’s probably naive of me to have spent the evening waiting for him to call- after all, it’s just a fling. But still- this morning at the hospital he said he’d see me tonight, so I was expecting to hear from him, though it’s still early by Josh’s standards. I suppose this is exactly why I didn’t mention any of this to Joan earlier. It’s just a fling. I’m not going to let myself get emotionally attached to him. 

I doze off and wake later to my ringing cell phone.

“Hello?” I’m groggy but nobody ever calls me this late. 

“Hey you.” 

A smile crawls across my face at the sound of his voice.

“Josh.”

“Look, I’m sorry that the evening got away from me. It’s been a busy night at work, but I’ve got a little over an hour before I have to be back. Can I…” He trails off, almost hesitant to ask.

“I’ll see you in 15 minutes?” I respond to what sure sounds like a booty call. But I’m okay with it. We’re both consenting adults with busy schedules. Especially Josh. I’d like to see him, even if it’s only a few minutes for a casual hook up.

“Kay.” I can practically hear him smile.

He knocks on my door a few minutes later looking rather beat down. I know he can’t discuss a lot of what goes on at The White House, but it doesn’t take a psychic to realize today was rough.

I take his hand and lead him back to the bedroom and he follows along but when we get there he seems less than eager. 

He flops down on the bed and sighs, telling me how exhausted he is as he toes his shoes off. They land on the floor with a thud.

“C’mere.” He reaches towards me, still clad in his suit, Sam’s jacket, and I crawl in next to him. He wraps me up and sighs and it's really only a matter of moments until he’s snoring softly. He seems to get some actual rest, even though it is short lived when his pager wakes ups with a shrill beep hardly an hour later. 

He slides out of bed as quietly as he can and softly kisses me goodbye. I feel him pull the blankets over me and whisper that he’ll lock the door on the way out and call me tomorrow. 

And it occurs to me that maybe I’m not sure what this thing with Josh is, but I’m starting to think it’s not so casual after all.


	12. Chapter 12

“Dorothy at the desk said HR called. They need to see you at the end of the day.” Joan announces unceremoniously as she slides into the open seat across from me at the lunch table.

“Me?” My eyes widen as the last few weeks at work play through my mind. Did Dr. Keller find my work unsatisfactory? “Why?” 

“Calm down.” Joan gives me a strange look. “I think it’s just for you to sign some updated paperwork. I had to do the same thing yesterday.” 

“Oh.” I’m relieved to say the least.

“What is with you lately?” Joan studies me curiously. 

“Ummm… nothing?” I’m hardly convincing myself. Normally Joan would be the first person I’d talk to if I’d met someone like Josh, but I still haven’t told her. Josh and I really haven't had a conversation about what this is or where it is or isn’t going, but I get the idea that he has no desire to tell Joan about what’s happening between us. 

“It’s obviously not nothing,” Joan continues. “You’re walking around with this ridiculous smile on your face all the time and- OH! You met someone!”

I freeze like a deer in headlights. Here’s the thing about Joan Lyman- or should I say Joan Lyman-Seaborn. Whatever. The woman likes to talk. She’s tapped into the DC Grapevine. If there’s something going on, she knows about it. She has her finger on the pulse of every interesting development in this city, I swear. So if she smells blood in the water and thinks you know something interesting, she won’t stop until she gets it out of you. 

“You DID!” She points her plastic fork at me. “You met someone!”

“I… maybe?” I twist my face in what is a rather odd way. I won’t lie to my best friend.

“Well? Spill your guts!” She exclaims, watching me intently. 

“It’s complicated,” I begin. 

“Oh no.” Her face falls visibly. Does she know?

“Donna? Are you seeing Chad again? Because really you should know that-”

“No!” I cut her off this time. “It’s not Chad. It’s definitely not Chad. This is different. Completely different. He’s… the real thing.” 

“Oh.” She seems relieved to the point of distraction. “Well… that’s good.”

“Okay- If Chad was really such a jerk, and I admit that he was, by the way, why did it take so long for anyone to tell me?” Now I’m the one that’s distracted. 

“We did tell you. As much as we could. I mean, what did you want me to say?” 

“Ugh. I don’t know. Say that he’s a loser that was just using me to pay his rent through his residency. Say that he’s small minded and controlling. Say that he’s-”

“Seriously? Donna, how was I supposed to tell you that when I hardly knew you?” 

She has a point, I suppose. And to her credit, she did make her opinion on Chad known during the more recent portion of our friendship. “Alright. That’s fair. I’ll concede. But, you know…”

“Don’t let you do it again?” Joan asks.

“Yeah.” I give her a sad smile. 

“You really do have questionable taste in men,” she notes, giving me a friendly smile and breaking off half of the sugar cookie on her tray to share with me. “Speaking of questionable men, I need to call my brother. He’s got some paperwork that Mom needs me to sign.”

“Alright.” I play it cool, thankful that I managed to squirm my way out of answering any questions, “I’ll see you up there.”

“Just don’t think that this gets you out of answering the rest of my questions about your dating life.” She smirks as she pulls out her phone and punches in the number. 

I know she’s kidding, but I’m not sure how long I can use the same distraction tactics before she figures something out. And I’m really not sure how I feel about keeping my best friend in the dark about the fact that I’m either sleeping with or dating her brother. 

I sigh and finish my yogurt before heading back upstairs to complete my rounds. I see Joan an abnormally small amount the rest of the shift, and I head to HR to wrap things up before I leave. 

When I arrive on the 5th floor, I meet with my designated HR representative, but as it turns out I’m receiving an unexpected promotion. She briefly recaps the last year of my employment and advises me that my supervisors have found my performance to exceed expectations. At the recommendation of both Dr.s Flemming and Lyman-Seaborn, I’m offered a responsibility bump and a raise within my current unit. I gladly accept.

When I catch up with Joan in the locker room, I’m met with a cheer before I even tell her the good news. She gives me a shout of delight and a huge hug. 

“Yes, girl! It’s well deserved. OH! We’re going out to celebrate. Get changed. Dinner and some bubbly are on me. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Well…” I glance at my phone for a moment before answering. “Okay.”

“Let’s try that new tapas place. What’s it called? Eighty Six?”

“Oh, I’ve seen that place. It’s near your condo?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I keep telling Sam that I want to check it out.”

“Will he be joining us?” I ask, trying to keep an even tone. I’ve always gotten along well with Sam, but beyond that I know that if Sam joins us maybe Josh will come too.

“No, he’s still at the White House for a few more hours. It’ll be nice to have a girls night though, right?” Joan smiles warmly at me. “Oh. Or did you have plans with Prince Charming?”

“No. I don’t have plans.” If Sam’s at work, I’m sure Josh is too. Besides, I haven’t been out with Joan in close to two months, and I could use a little girl time. “Let’s go.”

We enjoy our dinner and drinks and catch up on everything under the sun. Though I know it's practically killing her, Joan doesn’t pry about my love life. She knows when to give me some space. 

Joan pays the bill and we finish the bottle of champagne. 

“Let’s go out. Like, to a bar.” Joan is eager to say the least. 

I shrug my shoulders. I’m not typically a big drinker but I’m having fun and wouldn’t be opposed to some more socialization.

As we step out onto the sidewalk Joan pulls her phone out and dials Sam. I can tell from the side of the conversation I’m hearing that she’s on speakerphone. She flips her cell closed after only a few moments.

“Sam’s going to meet us at Hawk and Dove. He’s bringing Senior Staff.”

“Oh?” My interest is piqued, but I try not to show my cards.

“Toby, CJ, Josh and maybe Charlie,” she recapps. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” I grin, feeling my heart beat a bit faster at the thought of seeing him. “Sounds great to me.”


	13. Chapter 13

I’m standing at the bar waiting for the soft drink I’ve ordered for myself and Joan’s vodka martini when I see Josh and the rest of senior staff walk into Hawk and Dove. His eyes immediately meet mine and he breaks into a full dimpled grin. I smile back, tucking my hair behind my ear under his close examination. 

I see him say something to the group he’s entered with. The other four join Joan at the table and he makes a bee line for me at the bar. 

“You were promoted!” He exclaims, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet and looking at me with wonder. He must have heard Joan mention it to Sam when she called earlier. 

I grin at him. “I was.”

“Of course you were, Sweetheart. You’re incredible.” He leans in and kisses me thoroughly. “I’m so proud of you.”

I’m a little thrown at the use of the pet name and the public display of affection, but I also realise almost instantly that I adore both. My heart is beating a little faster in my chest when he pulls away. When I glance towards the corner booth housing our friends, I realize the view of the bar has been obstructed by a large group of people. It’s unlikely that they saw anything. Not that I care if they did; I have nothing to hide. I wonder if Josh feels the same way, or if he knew we were out of sight?

“Club soda with lemon and a vodka martini,” the bartender announces as he places the drinks I ordered in front of me. 

“I’ll get that,” Josh states cooly, handing over his card. “And I’ll also take 3 Sam Adams, a double Johnnie Walker and a grasshopper.”

He turns his attention back to me. “You’re having a club soda? Everything ok?”

“Yes.” I give his hand a gentle squeeze as reassurance. “We split a bottle of champagne with dinner, so Joan is already in rare form and I just wanted some water. I’ll have a few sips of your beer. You know, so we don’t upset your sensitive system.”

“I don’t have a sensitive system!” He insists.

“Josh. Last weekend you had two and a half beers and participated in the wave from my living room couch while we were watching the Mets game.”

“So? I’m a spirited fan. That’s all.”

I laugh outright, but I find him completely endearing.

We make our way back over to the table and slide into the two chairs at the end. I’m seated next to Joan and across from CJ, who seems to be in a wonderful mood this evening. She’s telling a story and laughing her heart out. It’s hard not to like her. She, Charlie and I eventually get quite caught up in conversation as Josh argues animatedly with Sam. Joan gets her opinion in the mix too, and Toby listens while he puffs on a cigar. Every so often I’ll feel Josh’s hand gently squeeze my leg under the table and he’ll give me a little smile. At one point he leans back and rests his arm on the top of my chair. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

As the evening progresses, I am, in fact, sharing Josh’s beer. And I realize it when Joan points it out. 

“Buy her a beer,” Joan rolls her eyes at Josh. “God, don’t you have any manners? She doesn’t want to share a bottle with you. You’re practically a stranger. Disgusting.”

“Uh, it’s really fine,” I chuckle softly. The table is at a loss for words, and I don’t know what to say either. Josh’s eyebrows raise a bit but he keeps his cool. Toby and CJ exchange glances and I suddenly wonder what is and is not being assumed by each person at the table. 

“She's a smart, savvy woman, Joan,” Josh quips from where he’s leaning back in his chair. “If she wanted a beer to herself, she’d say something.”

“Well I know that. But it wouldn’t stop you from acting like an oaf.” Joan rolls her eyes but at that moment Sam slides into the chair next to her, returning from closing out his tab. 

“What did I miss?” He asks, looking at each of us. 

“Nothing.” Joan scoffs. “Just Josh acting like he didn’t learn any manners as a child.”

“Well okay.” Sam looks between his wife and his best friend, knowing when to stay out of it. “Anyway, we're all closed out. Should we call it a night?”

He’s met with no objections from anyone at the table as we gather our collective belongings. Sam and a very tipsy Joan eventually head out, followed by the rest of the senior staff. Josh and I are right behind them, parting ways with CJ, Toby and Charlie as they pile into a cab. 

“It’s a nice evening,” Josh notes. “Do you want to walk?”

“Okay,” I agree and he takes my hand. We stroll through Georgetown in a comfortable silence, walking up the steps to his apartment.

Josh locks up behind us and sheds his jacket as he heads to the kitchen for a glass of water. I’ve really only been here a few times before as we typically spend time at my place. But he acts as though it’s the most natural thing in the world for us to walk through the door together. 

I join him in the kitchen and sit on the counter. He stands in front of me, circling his arms around my waist. 

“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” he tells me. 

“Oh?”

“There’s a state dinner coming up next month. It’s kind of stuffy and probably not the most fun you’ll ever have, but I’d like you to come with me. Would you?”

“Absolutely.” I beam at him. He looks almost relieved at my answer. But surely he knows that I was going to say yes? 

He leans in and kisses me gently, almost as if he’s solidifying the agreement. 

“It’s formal,” he continues, “so I’ll give you my card and you can pick out a dress.”

“You don’t need to buy me a dress,” I almost laugh. “I’m capable of doing that for myself. I’m a smart, savvy woman, remember?”

“I know.” He quickly offers quietly. “I just don’t want you to have to. It’s an event for my job. Besides, it feels kind of nice to be able to do something for you.”

“You do plenty for me.” I cup his cheek. I’m falling hard for this man, and though I promised myself I’d keep it casual it feels like there’s no going back at this point, not that I want it to. At least I find comfort in knowing it may be evolving into something beyond a strictly physical relationship for Josh, too. 

“I’d like to do more, Donna.” 

I look at him and he’s stone cold sober and completely serious. 

“I’m sorry the last few weeks haven’t been ideal. But I want to be a better boyfriend. I’m just not very good at this type of thing.”

“Boyfriend?” I question softly, a bit surprised that he’s labeling himself that way. 

“I… umm…” his eyes dart around and he looks suddenly nervous. “I guess that’s a stupid title. I mean I’m a grown man and I didn’t mean to-“

“I like it.” I cut him off, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “I just didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

“It is,” he admits softly. 

“Okay. Me too.” I lean my head on his shoulder for a moment. But the prolonged emotional conversation just isn’t us, so I can’t help but add a bit of banter. “How is your fan club going to react when they see me with you at the state dinner?” 

He shrugs his shoulders a bit, knowing immediately that I’m only giving him a hard time. “They love me in my tux.” He tries for an air of confidence.

“I love you in your tux,” I practically purr, lifting my head but keeping my hands on his biceps. 

“I noticed,” he grins somewhat cockily. There’s no doubt that he’s thinking the same thing I am about our first night together after the wedding. “But honestly, Donna? I’d be happy if they saw us together. I’d like for them to understand that I’m already taken. I don’t want to be thought of as on the market because I’m very much in love with you.”

I may have been trying to convince myself that I could sustain a causal relationship with this man, but it’s certain to me now, upon hearing those words from him, that the bottom has fallen out. 

“I love you too,” I tell him with a slight catch in my throat. It may be fast, but I guess the old cliche of ‘when it’s real, you’ll know,’ is ringing true. 

He leans in and kisses me soundly, sealing our commitment to one another. 

I’m a goner.


	14. Chapter 14

“I shouldn’t be too long at the office today,” Josh announces from where he stands brushing his teeth at the bathroom sink. “I just have a few meetings and we are reading over some comments from State on a speech and then briefing the President. 4 or 5 hours, maybe?”

I’m sitting cross legged in his unmade bed, clad in an oversized T-shirt I stole from his dresser this morning, holding a warm mug of coffee. 

He’s been telling me about this idea he’s working on with Toby to enroll an additional 1.3 million children into early childhood education programs. He’s bouncing the idea off of me as he goes about his morning routine, stopping in the middle of shaving to squint and murmur to himself as he does some quick math. 

He asks me what I think and I give him my honest feedback. 

“You’re brilliant,” he tells me. “I’m taking that to the President.”

And while I’m sure it’s hyperbole, it still feels nice to be valued. 

“Okay. I think I’m going to do a little bit of shopping.” It is my day off, afterall, and there are quite a few sales going on right now. 

“Did Joanie say you were going to meet her for brunch last night?” He’s moved over to his closet where he’s rifling through to find a clean shirt. 

“She said she’d call me this morning. I’ll run home and change. We will probably go to that little French place on the end of your block.”

“You’re going all the way home?” He furrows his brow. 

“Well… yeah. Typically, Josh, people like to take showers and put on clean clothes before meeting their friends.”

“It's so far though. You’ve still got a key for my front door, right?”

“I do.”

“Well, when you go home, why don’t you grab a few things to leave here so you don’t have to be going back and forth?”

“Bring some things over?” I restate slowly, just wanting to confirm. 

“Yeah. We’re closer to both of our jobs here anyway. Why do we spend so much time at your place?”

“My bed is more comfortable?” I offer.

“That’s true.” He laughs. 

“Seriously, why is this thing so lumpy?” I bounce a bit on the bed where I’m sitting. “How you’ve ever had a decent night's sleep is a mystery to me.”

“I sleep at my desk most nights. Well, at least I did before I met you. So I’ve never gotten around to buying a new one.”

“You’ve got to stop sleeping at your desk and running off of Redbull and coffee,” I tell him for at least the 10th time. “It’s bad for you, babe.”

He turns around and holds up the last two acceptable shirts in his closet. 

“Your left.” I select the one that I prefer and he takes it off the hanger to get dressed. “I’ll drop off your dry cleaning on my way home. I have a few things to have cleaned as well, so I’ll be there anyway.”

“Thanks. Stick them in with mine. I’ll pick it up at the end of the week.”

“Josh, can I ask you something?” I lean over and place my mug on the nightstand. 

“Of course.” He glances over to me and pulls an undershirt on with his boxers. “What’s up?”

“Well, if I’m going to the state dinner with you, and for that matter bringing some clothes to leave here and combining our dry cleaning, I guess that means Joan will know about what’s going on between us?”

Josh shrugged casually. “Yeah.”

“Well… are you ok with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He’s completely oblivious to what I’m saying as he sits down next to me and takes a sip of my coffee. 

“Well I know we’ve been keeping it quiet, but I didn’t want her to be blindsided when I showed up as your date.”

“Keeping it quiet?” He furrowed his brow. “I haven’t been keeping it quiet. Have you been keeping it quiet.”

“Well… yes,” I admit. 

“Okay. May I ask why?” He’s trying to remain calm but I can see the uneasiness on his face. 

“Because I thought you weren’t that interested in me. That this was just a fling. And I wasn’t sure when it changed from us casually hooking up to something more.”

He sighs gently. “I think this is my fault. I should have made my intentions more clear. I should have taken you out for fancy dinners and dancing instead of quiet nights in with Chinese carry out. It’s just that everything was going so well. I didn’t want to disturb this little cocoon we’re in right now.”

“I don’t need fancy dinners,” I assure him. And I don’t. “I just thought that since you hadn’t mentioned anything to Joan that I shouldn’t either because it was just a fling.”

“Donna, let me ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“Have you called your brother to update him on how things are going between the two of us?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Exactly.” Josh looks at me expectantly and I am beginning to see his point. 

“But don’t you think this is different?” It feels different to me. 

“No. I don’t.” He stands up and heads back to the closet, stepping into a pair of dress pants. “Honestly, before she lived here and married Sam, I only saw Joanie maybe twice a year. It’s not like we’re exceptionally close. Besides, she’s your best friend. If you want to tell her, that’s fine with me. I assumed you’d be the one to say something anyway.”

“You did?” My mind is trying to process the fact that this is all a misunderstanding. 

“Yeah. So tell her at brunch.”

He’s very calm about this, so I raise an eyebrow at him. “And you don’t think she’s going to be rather…”

“Nosy?” Josh supplies with a laugh. “Yeah. I think she’ll be nosy. But you haven’t seen meddling until you’ve had this conversation with my Mom. Think of it as a warmup round.”

My eyes widen as I stare at him, but Josh gives me a smirk and a chuckle. 

“I’m kidding, sweetheart. It’s going to be fine. They already love you. But not nearly as much as I do.”

I grin unrepentantly at him. “I love you too.”

He smiles and leans in to kiss me goodbye as he finishes buttoning his shirt, as though this was the most natural conversation in the world. And in many ways, it is. He tells me that he’ll call me when he’s done at the office and that he’d like to take me out for dinner tonight. When I ask him what the occasion is he just shrugs and tells me that he’s beginning to realize that he enjoys having a life.


	15. Chapter 15

“I want a cat.” Joan puts her fork down and leans back in her chair. “Sam says no.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t really understand the allure of having a pet.”

“No, I mean why do you want a cat? You’re never home.”

“I’m home.” Joan balks. “Besides, that’s the beauty of having a cat. They’re solitary creatures so when I’m gone it’s fine and when I’m home I have company. Win, win.”

“So if I’m hearing you correctly,” I grin, “you’ve found a pet to adopt and Sam is in for a surprise when he gets home?”

“She’s adorable.” Joan states. “She’s a little older but she has one of those flat faces, and a long, white coat.”

I laugh outright. “What’s her name?”

“I’m going to let Sam name her,” she responds, taking another bite of her quiche. “They need to bond.”

“Well, congratulations. You’re a cat person now.”

She picks up her mug of coffee and raises it towards me in a toast. 

“Gotta keep it interesting now that we’re an old married couple.” 

“Yeah, whatever. You love it.” I laugh. I know that she does. Joan and Sam are perfect together 

“I do,” she smiles softly. “I love it. I love him. And speaking of being completely head over heels, let’s talk about you for a minute. You’re walking around like a lovesick puppy lately. A very satisfied lovesick puppy though. I’ll give you that.”

I put my fork down and place my hands in my lap. Here goes. 

“I’m glad you brought that up. I hoped we could talk about it.”

“Oh, we’re going to talk about it.” She smirks and raises her eyebrows a bit. “I need all the dirty details. I mean, you had an actual hickey when you were changing out of your scrubs a few weeks ago and it was on your-“

“It’s Josh.” I blurt, just wanting her to stop her train of thought before she can’t take it back. 

“Josh?” She asks, furrowing her brow. “Oh my God. Josh the hot guy from the maintenance team? Good for you!”

“No.” I speak slowly and clearly. “Josh Lyman.”

“Wha- what?” If she weren’t seated she’d be physically reeling from the news. “Josh, my brother Josh?”

I watch her closely, meeting her eyes. “Yes.”

“Why… when… how could you?” She finally cries out in what I’d describe as expiration. 

“Joan, don’t freak out.” I try to remain calm, and to encourage her to keep her voice down.

“Don’t freak out? Don’t freak out?! You’re having a clandestine affair with my little brother and you’re trying to shush me?”

“It’s nothing illicit,” I say a bit defensively. “I’m in love with him.”

“Oh, now you’re in love.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Well why didn’t you just say so?”

“Let me explain.”

“What’s there to explain?” Her voice is high and scattered and she’s past the point of reason as she rambles on, digging through her purse for her wallet, pulling out some cash to toss on the table and make her exit. I follow suit, leaving a generous tip, and chase after her. 

“Joan. Wait. I understand that this may come as a surprise to you. But this isn’t just some affair. We’re two consenting adults that love each other. I thought you’d be happy for us.” 

“Well I’m not.” She snaps forcefully. “And I’ll tell you why. Because this, Donna Moss, is a bad idea. You don’t know him. Not like I do. He’s not husband or fiancé or boyfriend material. He’s an egotistical workaholic jackass. And you? You’re a people pleaser. You think Chad was bad? Well, you don’t know Josh. He’s going to use you and leave you when you’re no longer convenient and ruin our friendship in the process because that’s exactly the selfishway he is.”

“That’s not fair.” I protest. “He’s not like Chad. He’s a good man that cares about me. How can you even say that?”

“Because I know him, Donna! You’ve known him for what, a few months? I’ve known him his entire life. People like Josh don’t change. And I think you know that this is a horrible idea or you would have come to me before right now.” Her voice levels to a tone that gives me an icy chill. “You’re my best friend, even though it doesn’t feel as though you share the same sentiments with me on what that friendship means. You asked me to tell you if I thought you were making mistakes. Well, I’m telling you now. You’re making a mistake. Break it off with him before he hurts you beyond repair or you unintentionally damage him in places you didn’t know he was already broken. Break it off with him and we’ll talk.”

She turns on her heel and strides away from me, leaving me completely stunned in the middle of the sidewalk. My mouth is hanging partially open in shock but I’m unable to find any of the worlds that I’d like to say. I feel my eyes begin to well with tears as a few people brush past me. I slowly make my way to a metal bench and sit down, shakily pulling out my cell phone and dialing his number. 

He answers on the first ring and immediately hears the hurt in my voice. 

After frantically checking to make sure I’m safe, he calms down a bit and asks me what’s wrong. 

I deflect, not wanting to get into it right now. This is between Joan and I and I’ll handle things with my best friend on my own. But he knows what’s wrong almost immediately. I hear the anger within him boiling towards the surface though he speaks to me in a soothing tone of which I alone am the recipient.

“Do you still have your key? Let yourself into my apartment and take a nice hot bath. I’m going to leave the office now, but I need to make a stop on the way.”

“Josh, don’t. Please. It’ll make it worse.” The last thing I want is to create a problem between Josh and Joan with his overreaction. 

“I won’t make it worse,” he tells me cooly. “I’ve been listening to her tell me how she thinks I should run my life for 35 years, but she’s crossed the line this time. I’ll see you in an hour.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Donna?” Josh bellows from the doorway as soon as he steps inside the condo. 

“Back here,” I respond from where I’m attempting to relax in his oversized jetted tub. 

I hear the front door close and bolt and the clink of Josh grabbing a beer from the refrigerator before walking towards the master bath. 

“Hey there.” He leans in the door frame and I grin as I glance over to him. He’s looking particularly handsome in his casual clothes. He takes it as the invitation it’s meant to be and wanders over to sit on the edge of the tub, placing his beer on the vanity and leaning down to gently press his lips to mine. 

“Hi,” I greet him softly, laying my head back on the edge of the tub as I gaze over at him. “How’d it go.”

He sighs slightly. “Fine.”

“Josh…” I don’t think he’s trying to blow me off, but he doesn’t do very well with hard conversations. “I need a little more information than that, please.”

His shoulders slump slightly and I can tell he was hoping to avoid talking about this.

“I don’t want to get in between you and your sister,” I explain softly. “I need to know if her disapproval of my life choices is going to cause the two of you to have problems.”

At that, Josh actually laughs. “Believe me, I’m the resident expert on weathering the disapproval of Joan Lyman. Remember, I’m the choice she disapproves of, not you!” He says in what can only be described as a tone of faux cherriness. Clearly, his interaction with her isn’t bothering him.

“Well that’s not quite true. At least, that’s not what she indicated to me. She was worried I’d hurt you. I’d never hurt you, Josh. You know that, right?”

“I do. And so does Joan when it comes right down to it. Trust me, Donna. It’s me she’s sure will screw this up, not you.” He stares at me intently. 

I find myself a little at a loss. I’d like to know exactly what happened but I don’t want to pry. 

Josh looks at my face and gives me a gentle smile as he shrugs his shoulders. “You know how she is. She thinks she knows best for everyone. She’s got a big mouth and she’s overly opinionated.”

“But she’s got a good heart and she means well,” I amend. 

“You’re right. She does. And she’ll get over this. Just stand your ground and eventually she’ll come around. She’s just being stubborn. She likes to be the first one in the know, and the center of attention, and right now she isn’t either. I reminded her that she doesn’t get a say in this part of our lives, and if she needs to be reminded of that again, I won’t hesitate to tell her. Trust me, you won’t lose her friendship over this, and you aren’t destroying our sibling relationship.” His tone has changed. It’s a little harder, a little more insistent. He takes a sip from the bottle, waiting to see if I have anything else to add on the topic. 

“Be nice.” I warn. “I know you’re annoyed, but she means well.”

“I know you’re right. She does. She just has a hard time not being in control. And I’m sure she didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark, but honestly? I don’t care. It’s not her life, it’s not her relationship. It’s ours.”

“I just don’t want to come between the two of you,” I repeat again, trying to convey my sincerity

“Seriously, Donna, she’s been bossing me around my whole life. When I was four she convinced me I wanted to be a ballerina.”

“Really?” I can’t help but laugh, picturing him in a tutu. He’s smirking at me again, and I know his mood has rebounded. 

“Yes. Just because she wanted a dance partner! And then, after the fire, I pretty much did whatever she wanted for a long time, and let her get away with thinking she was in control even longer. Maybe until this morning, I don’t know. But giving into her isn’t what’s best for her… or me. Or us. But I’ve worked through my guilt. Don’t worry, I know my boundaries. And now she knows hers, too. She’ll get over it.”

“I know.” And I do. I caught her off guard, and she doesn’t like to be surprised, especially with something that has been happening right under her nose for the past few months. But still, I thought she’d had a better reaction than she did. I really thought she’d be happy for us. I guess that’s the most disappointing part of this whole thing. 

We sit in silence for a beat but my mind drifts back to something he mentioned a few minutes earlier.

“Josh? What happened after the fire? What did you mean?” I’m a bit thrown by his mentioning of an event that clearly impacted him, but Joan has never gone into detail about it. 

He looks away from me as an empty look washes over his face. “That’s probably a conversation for another day,” he tells me. “But if you want me to, um, talk about it, I will. I can.”

“No,” I tell him. “I don’t need to know. If you want to tell me, you can. But I want you to know that nothing you say would change my love for you.”

Josh gently takes my hand from where it’s resting near his leg, clasping it in his own. 

“Thank you.” He brings my hand to his lips and tenderly kisses my palm. “I know this all seems like a lot to deal with, and I’m sorry that it’s happening. But you’re important to me, Donnatella. As long as you know how much I truly love you, that’s the only thing that matters.”

My heart beats wildly in my chest and I can’t help but to practically melt at his words. I’ll never tire of hearing them. 

“I love you too,” I tell him. 

“Now,” he speaks a bit louder, changing the tone in the room, “are you going to invite me into that bubble bath or do I have to just sit on the sidelines today?”

I grin at him, and he smirks back. 

“Come on in,” I tilt my head at him playfully. 

Without hesitation, he scoots backwards and slides into the tub, fully clothed, and creates a giant wave. The water sloshes out of the tub and goes all over the bathroom floor. He laughs outright at my shocked face, and gives me a full dimpled grin, which I can’t resist. But I think he knows that. 

“Hmm,” I remark coyly, moving closer to him and lowering my voice as my lips glide along his cheek to his ear and my fingers begin to undo the top button on his shirt. “We better get you out of these wet clothes.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Mr. Keene in room 136 needs a catheter change before the end of the shift, nurse.”

“Oh come on, Joan.” I scoff. She’s been giving me the silent treatment for 3 days. “You can call me Donna.”

She says nothing, staring at her file folder and jotting a note before closing the cover and walking away. 

I will not be deterred. I see my opportunity when she heads towards her office and I follow her in there, closing the door behind me. 

“If you have something you’d like to say to me, please do it so we can get back to being professionals and, ideally, best friends.”

“Did you break it off with him?” She crosses her arms and stands directly in front of me. 

“No.” I answer confidently. “And I’m not going to.”

“Well, then I guess we have nothing to say to each other.”

“Let’s not do this, Joan. Can we please, please, just all sit down and talk about this like rational adults?”

“I think that option went out the window when Josh came over last Sunday afternoon to read me the riot act.”

“Joan.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I didn’t have any control over that and you know it.”

“Of course you didn’t. Because you have no idea what kind of a man you’re getting involved with.”

“How can you say that about him?!” I finally lose my temper on the subject, thinking about how tender and loving he’s been to me while we try to navigate this issue with Joan. “Maybe YOU don’t know what kind of a man I’m getting involved with. Did you ever consider that? While you were busy rolling your eyes at his public persona maybe he turned into the kind of man that I would think you’d WANT someone you care about to end up with. He’s kind and he’s gentle and we love each other.”

“So you think.” She scoffs. 

“No. I don’t think. I know!” I square off. “And you of all people should realize that you don’t fall in love with someone because it’s convenient. You’re married to your brother's best friend. Don’t you see how hypocritical this is?”

“It’s not the same thing!”

“How can you even say that?”

“We never kept it from him because we knew we didn’t have anything to hide!”

“Look, I’m sorry you were the last one to know. I’m sorry that I wasn’t straight forward with you as soon as you came back from your honeymoon. I’m sorry that Josh never said anything to you and that Sam thought you knew. It was the perfect storm, okay? But it’s not because Josh and I are doing anything wrong or have something to hide, which you would understand if you’d just listen to what I have to say and open your eyes to what our relationship really is, and not just what you perceive it to be.”

“I know how he is. You asked me to be honest with you, Donna. You told me you wanted my opinion if I thought you were making a mistake. Well I’m giving it to you because I know that’s exactly what’s happening. It’s only a matter of time until you find out too. He can be a selfish jerk!”

"You're being a selfish..." the expletive I'm about to let loose on her is cut off as the PA system blares.

"Trauma One. Trauma One, Blue! Blue! Trauma One, Blue! Go!”

I immediately feel a heaviness in my chest. I look over to Joan and watch the color drain from her face. 

“He’s going to be okay,” I tell her softly. “They’re both going to be okay.”

She finds the ability to nod and I reach out to give her hand a squeeze. But I don’t have time to linger. When a Trauma One Blue is called the President’s trauma team has to go running. And right now, that’s me. 

I bolt out the door, spotting our friend Megan in the hallway. “Stay with Joan,” I command on my way down the hall. “Don’t leave her alone until she talks to Sam.”

I’m at the designated meeting point near the entry in a flash, taking my place next to Dr. Keller and the other members of this somewhat secretive team. 

Dr. Keller goes over instructions and assignments one last time, telling us he’s unsure of the nature of the President’s condition at this time. 

But we all know. If he was having heartburn they’d take him back to the White House and he’d be seen at the medical unit there. A couple of the team members wheel a crash cart and an ultrasound into the Trauma Room. Something is seriously wrong. I swallow hard and take a deep breath. This is it. 

In a flourish of activity, the motorcade pulls up to the door where we’re waiting. Men in dark suits storm into the hospital and fan out as the first part of the team rushes towards the Presidential Limousine. He’s on a gurney and being wheeled towards us in no time flat. The secret service stands aside for us to enter a closed off room and then circle back in around us.

I immediately get to work, trying to bring the team up to speed on his condition. “B.P. 134 over 78. Pulse is 108. What’s his pulse ox?”

“98,” a paramedic responds. 

Dr. Keller tries to talk to the President.

As soon as I hear someone confirm a gunshot wound, my senses heighten and my knees feel like jello. What happened tonight in Rosslyn? Where’s Josh? I feel the bile rise in my throat and I’m about to dismiss myself from this procedure when Leo, who the President has been asking for, walks in. 

“Anybody killed back there?” President Bartlet doesn’t hesitate to ask as I carefully cut off his shirt for a closer examination of the wound. I take a deep breath to prevent my hands from shaking as I listen for the answer. 

“The two shooters,” Leo answers amid the chaos. I know I’m not supposed to be listening but I am. “They got them through the window.”

“Anybody in the crowd?”

“There were some injuries. They're coming right now.”

My eyes flick over to Leo for a quick second and my hands slow ever so slightly. 

“What about our people?” The president asks. 

Leo remains calm. “C.J. hit her head on the ground, but other than that…”

I let out a ragged sigh of relief, which catches the President's eye. He glances at me for a moment but I focus on the task at hand. Josh is fine. Now it’s time to turn my attention to providing the President with the best possible care. 

He’s all prepped and ready but we’ve been cautioned not to proceed with the anesthesia at this time. Though the President’s injuries aren’t life threatening, every minute is time we shouldn’t be waiting. 

He’s in fairly good spirits, all things considered, and though I’ve always liked him politically I can really see why Josh remains so energized to work for him. It’s hard not to like the man. 

The president requests a moment alone with his chief of staff so I excuse myself and step into the adjoining room, gathering a few needed supplies. I’m pulling more gauze and a new pair of scissors when the door closes. I look up to see Dr. Lee and the First Lady in front of me. 

“Dr. Bartlet, I hope they told you that it’s looking very good.” Dr. Lee remains optimistic. 

Though I know she hears him, the woman that I know to be Abigail Bartlet stares at me and I move to make an exit and return to the President’s bedside. 

“This is Donna Moss,” Dr. Lee explains, halting my actions. “She’ll be assisting and needs to be privy to President Bartlet's complete medical history.”

Abbey Bartlet studies me for a moment but doesn’t directly acknowledge me before she speaks. 

“There are 14 people in the world who know this, including the Vice President, the Chief   
of Staff, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. You are going to be the fifteenth. Seven years ago, my husband was diagnosed with a relapsing remitting course of M.S. When all this is over, tell the press, don’t tell the press. It’s entirely up to you.”

And with that, she turns on her heels and leaves. Though I realize her statement likely has political ramifications beyond what I can even comprehend, what matters to me is that I now have a better understanding of my patient’s health. Right now, he’s a man with a gunshot wound in my trauma room. I’m going to give him the best care I can. That's all there is to it.


	18. Chapter 18

I’m happy to report to the powers that be that the president has successfully made it through surgery. His prognosis is excellent and he’s in good hands with the recovery team. A careful recovery, a few follow up visits and some PT and he should be without any long lasting effects. 

Though I find it odd that Dr. Lee and Dr. Keller are immediately pulled away, I don’t think too much about it. Their shifts have just started and the President’s procedure was very short. I’m sure there are other patients in the hospital that are requiring their expertise. 

I pull off my scrub cap and begin to wash up, rolling my neck to stretch out the muscles. Though that was nowhere near the longest or most complex surgery I’ve ever participated in, but my adrenaline was certainly pumping because of who the patient was. Not to mention I was at the end of my shift anyway. I’m exhausted. 

I’m sure Josh will be working all night to deal with the fallout from someone shooting the President, but I’ll call him when I leave and sleep at his place tonight. Something is still uneasy in my gut, I just know I’ll feel better when I talk to him.

I push through the double doors, intending to stop by the nurses station to make sure they don’t need an extra set of hands before I leave for the night. 

As soon as I step into the hallway, I’m face to face with Toby Ziegler. The hospital is crawling with Secret Service and White House Staff, so it’s not completely surprising. I know he’s a speechwriter so Sam probably sent him over to have me read some medical terminology for a statement if Joan is busy. It takes me only a fleeting moment, however, to know that something is off. He’s standing there, completely silent, waiting for me.

He wordlessly opens the door to a waiting room and ushers me inside. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at the floor for a moment before making eye contact with me. 

“Donna. Josh was hit.”

“Hit with what?” 

“He was shot in the chest. He’s in surgery right now.”

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand, is -- is it serious?”

“Yes, it’s critical. The bullet collapsed his lung and damaged a major artery.”

It’s beginning to sink in. I hear a high pitched ringing in my ears and the thumping of my own pulse. I swear the world slows down. Joan appears from out of nowhere and her arms are immediately around me in the tightest embrace I’ve ever received, but it feels as though everything goes into slow motion. She holds on for dear life. I can hear her gentle cries but I am almost comatose. It’s not quite computing.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He’s supposed to come bursting through the door and kiss me in a way that borders on inappropriate for a public setting, call me a ridiculous pet name and take me home to eat Chinese and watch a black and white movie. He’s supposed to twirl me around the tiny kitchen in his apartment and leave the door open when he’s singing off key in the shower and make love to me before we fall asleep beside each other. Not this. 

Joan finally lets go of me and I see her face, blotchy red and streaked with tears. I’m shaky and clearly in shock, so Toby gently guides me into a chair and Sam swoops in to comfort Joan, holding her close. 

It must be several minutes before I find my voice. “I- I need more information.” I croak out, looking up to Joan. She’s the key to my access to Josh as she’s technically the next of kin at this juncture. 

“Dr. Bartlet is going to bring us an update as soon as she has one,” Joan assures, resting her head against Sam. 

I nod once in understanding. CJ comes over and sits down next to me, gently rubbing my back and giving me some idle reassurances. It’s probably a nice gesture from someone that I’ve only met a handful of times. I’ll think about it later. 

Dr. Bartlet enters the waiting room and looks to Joan. “Is she here?”

Joan nods towards me as I struggle to follow what they’re saying. 

“Oh. Hello, Miss Moss.” Dr. Bartlet stands near me and speaks gently. “I’m Abbey Bartlet. First of all, I’d like to thank you for the excellent care you provided my husband earlier.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I try to maintain a sense of composure if only for Josh’s sake, but I’m fairly certain I’m failing. 

“I understand that you’re Josh Lyman’s girlfriend. I’m sorry I didn’t piece thah together earlier.” 

It’s more of a statement than a question. So I meet her gaze and give her a small nod of confirmation. 

“Well, he speaks very highly of you,” Abbey assures. It surprises me a bit that Josh speaks of me at all in the White House, but I’ll add that to the growing list of things that will sink in later. “I understand you'd like an update on his condition?”

“Yes, ma’am.” They’re apparently the only two words I can put together at this point. 

“The bullet collapsed a lung and lacerated his pulmonary artery.” Abbey stops to let that sink in, and I feel Joan reach over and take my hand. But something clicks inside of me. I revert back to my training in an effort to learn as much as possible about Josh’s situation. I’m typically more comfortable when I have the most information possible. 

“Can they try a Gortex graft?” I ask, hoping there’s a good solution on the horizon. 

“No,” she tries to remain even keeled. “They’re going to have to stay in and try to repair the artery primarily.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” I’m grateful for the information but the gravity of the situation is beginning to sink in. I feel like I’m going to be sick, so I close my eyes to stave it off. 

While I’m sure there’s a bevy of activity in the waiting room, I’m oblivious. I just think about Josh. I’m spending all of my energy willing him to live. 

Someone sits down next to me, gently holding my hand. Eventually I look over and see an unfamiliar face. 

“Hello, dear.” She speaks softly. “My name is Delores.”

“Mrs. Landingham.” I state with a bit of uncertainty, though I’m not sure who else she could be. Josh speaks very highly of her. 

“Yes, dear. You just let me know if you need anything, Hmm?”

I nod again and pull myself back to reality, though I’m still counting the moments until someone brings me another update. 

“Josh has told me a lot about you,” I begin. “He says you make the best spritz cookies he’s ever eaten.”

“Well, I’ll have to bring him some to share with you.” She pats my hand softly and the silence surrounds us once again. 

We’re given vague updates every hour, and White House staffers filter in and out through the night. We’re approaching hour 8 when Sarah Lyman arrives. 

Sam opens the door for her and a commotion begins in the quiet waiting room. She immediately cries Joan’s name and bursts into tears.

I watch as she fusses over Joan, talking a mile a minute the whole time. Joan fights it for a few minutes, but then gives up. I find it peculiar, but I don’t think too much about it. Joan tries to give Sarah the latest update but she practically waves her off. It seems like she doesn’t want to know. I’ve seen it all before, though. I’ve had plenty of patients whose families prefer to bury their heads in the sand and hope it all goes away. 

After only a few minutes I can’t take it any longer. My nerves are frayed and Mrs. Landingham, bless her heart, has returned to the White House. 

I stand and slip out the door before anyone notices. My feet begin to carry me exactly where I need to go before I even consciously realize where I’m headed. 

I’m still in scrubs so I’m not met with any opposition as I make my way to the OR, letting myself in the side door and climbing the steps to the theater. 

Though he may not be awake, just being near him again provides me with the sense of calm I’ve been craving all night. The steady hum of machines and the sharp digital sound of his still beating heart give me hope. And so, I’ll sit and wait for him. And while I watch the best surgeons in the district repair his broken body, I realize exactly what this thing with Josh means to me. 

Everything.


	19. Chapter 19

I see the moment when the surgery is complete. I see them close the gaping chest wound and bandage it carefully. I see them double check his vitals and nod at each other in recognition of a job well done. 

I let the tears of relief stream down my face when he’s wheeled out and I hop up too, heading to the recovery room as quickly as possible. I know I’m not supposed to be in here right now, but they’re not going to be able to keep me away.

Melissa, his attending nurse while he’s coming out of anesthesia, happens to be a good friend of mine so when I follow him in she takes one look at me and doesn’t fight it. While she takes care of procedure, I stand out of the way, gently pulling a pair of socks onto his cold feet and spreading a blanket over the rest of him. 

“I can’t stay,” I whisper. “They’re not going to let me. But you did great in there and you’re going to be okay.”

I reach out and gently brush his unruly curls before leaning in to place a featherlight kiss on his temple. His eyelids flutter partially open but he doesn’t have the energy to speak even though his lips part as though he has something to say. I whisper that I love him and tell him again that he’s going to be okay as I gently hold his hand. The relief that floods over me when I meet his foggy eyes is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Though I know this is the beginning of a very long journey, he’s alive and that alone is enough to make my heart sing. 

I’m oblivious to the commotion behind me so I’m a bit startled when I’m suddenly standing next to the President. He’s holding onto an IV pole and there are agents on either side of him, but he’s standing there nonetheless. 

I begin to move away, knowing I should never have snuck into the recovery room to begin with when I feel a firm hand on my shoulder. I look over to see Leo give me a reassuring nod as he takes his place beside me. 

I stay where I am as President Bartlet leans gently against Josh's bed. Dr. Holbrook encourages Josh to wake up, even though he’s already made eye contact with me. I don’t say anything though, knowing that the doctor needs to see Josh wake up from the procedure. After a few moments of the doctor's gentle coaxing, we get a response. 

Josh opens his eyes slowly and looks around, muttering something as he takes in the small crowd that’s gathered at his bedside. 

He opens his mouth to say something but none of us are able to determine what it is. 

“I couldn't hear you, Josh.” President Bartlet leans in, a smile forming on his face as Josh repeats himself.

“What did he say?” Leo asks. 

The president stands tall and reports back, “He said, ‘What's next?’"

President Bartlet lays his hand on Josh's head and we all stay by his side for a few moments. Dr. Holbrook advises us that they’re ready to move Josh to a room in the ICU where his family is waiting. 

We all file out but Leo stops me in the doorway. 

“You’re Donna.” It’s a statement, more than a question. 

“Yes.”

“We’ve all heard a lot about you,” he reports, which surprises me once again. “I’m sorry we’re meeting again under these circumstances, but I did want to thank you for the excellent level of care you provided to the President. You’ve probably been in this building for over 24 hours now, though. You should go home and get some sleep.”

“Thank you,” I offer in an effort to be polite. “But I’d like to stay with Josh.”

Leo studies my face closely for a moment before the hint of a wry grin peeks into the corner of his mouth. “Good girl.” He states simply before walking away. 

I make my way up the stairs and into the ICU. A secret service agent asks me for my badge and I provide him with the hospital ID that’s clipped to my scrubs. He checks it against a list and allows me entry. I assume I’m cleared due to my status on the President’s trauma team, not because they’re letting me visit my boyfriend. 

I can see through the glass into his room. The nurses, Mark and Christine, are settling him in and hooking him up to the necessary monitors. I’m glad to see the two of them in there; they’re both excellent at their jobs and I know they will provide Josh with the highest level of care. 

Joan and Sarah are in there too, though it looks like Joan is trying to pull her mother’s hands away from Josh’s body, which is connected to an overwhelming amount of machines, even by my standards. Sarah is putting up a fight but she doesn’t seem to be herself. Joan looks exhausted on a whole new level. Eventually they exit the room and Joan deposits Sarah into a chair, glancing at me and jerking her head to the side in an indication she’d like me to follow as she steps down the hallway out of earshot. 

“Is your mom okay?” I ask. Sarah seems groggy and her eyes are a little glossed over. It’s not shocking to me that someone would offer her a sedative but she’s pretty out of it. 

Joan looks at the floor and bites her lip. “I need to know that he’s going to be okay. I need to take her home but I’d like to monitor his care and-“

“Joan, I’m not going anywhere.” My answer is gentle yet firm. “I’m not going to leave his side.”

She lets out a ragged breath and I immediately know she’s overwhelmed.

I reach out and wrap her into a hug, and while neither of us has forgotten about our disagreement, we both put it to the side. It just doesn’t matter right now. 

“They repaired the artery and he’s awake,” I remind her gently. “He made it over the biggest hurdle.”

Though we both know there’s still a long road ahead, with a large number of potential problems, sometimes it doesn’t do any good to point that out.

Joan squeezes me a little tighter and I hear her thank me. 

“You don’t have to thank me. This is where I want to be.” I don’t think she understands the gravity of my feelings for Josh, but this isn’t the time. “Where’s Sam?”

“The White House.” She steps back from me, wiping her eyes. “I’m just going to take mom back to my place and try to get a little sleep before I come back to meet with Dr. Holbrook.”

“You shouldn’t drive.” I state. “But neither should Sam, I’d imagine.”

I ask Cara, the unit’s administrative assistant, for her help in calling a car from the number Leo provided me earlier and to reschedule Dr. Lyman’s meeting with Dr. Holbrook for later that afternoon. I also have her call Tim from security to walk her out. I’m sure that the outside of the hospital is flooded with reporters, and it looks like Sarah is quickly turning into dead weight. 

“You’re his medical POA?” I ask Joan, who nods confirmation. “Good. He’s going to need you to think clearly and have a coherent conversation on his behalf. Go home and get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, knowing that I’m right. Joan and Sarah make their way towards the elevators with help from Tim and head home for some rest. 

I head straight back to Josh’s bedside, pulling a chair close and kissing his forehead softly. 

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” I promise, taking his hand in mine before leaning against his bed rails and dozing off myself.


	20. Chapter 20

Josh is a force of nature. He’s constant motion and bottled energy and never ending banter all combined into one person, so when he’s reduced to whimpers I feel my heart breaking for him all over again. I stand up and make sure nothing is terribly wrong, checking his monitors in the process. Everything seems to be in the normal range. 

“I know it hurts,” I soothe. “You’re getting close to time for more morphine.”

I check the dry erase board and realize that he’s still got some time to go. Almost 20 minutes in that level of pain is going to be hard for him to take. 

He begins to gradually come to and with his coherence is a higher awareness of his pain. It’s the first time he’s really coming out of the drugs when he’s awake and I doubt he’s ever experienced anything like this before. 

He eventually opens his eyes and without words, it suddenly feels like he’s pleading with me for help. 

“Take my hand,” I offer, taking his in mine on the uninjured side. “And close your eyes again. I know it’s difficult but try to relax a little bit and loosen your muscles.”

He squeezes my hand and slams his eyes shut, his body completely rigid against the pain. 

“Doing good,” I assure him, watching his heart rate closely on the monitor. 

We’re about halfway through the morphine countdown when Sarah and Joan arrive in the room. 

“Oh, my baby,” Sarah practically wails, immediately approaching his bedside, standing across from me and looking down, reaching out to touch his arm on his injured side. 

Josh grits his teeth and tightens his grip on my hand. I feel the tension seep back into his body at his mother’s words. 

I look away, glancing at the monitor to my left, and I’m too late to stop her when Sarah reaches for Josh, adjusting his blanket and brushing against his chest. The contact, though not direct, is enough to send his pain through the roof. 

He lets out an anguished growl and she jumps back a bit. 

“Joanie!” Sarah half scolds. “Do something for your brother!”

“8.” I tell Joan with a sideways glance, and she immediately knows that I am counting the minutes until the next dose. 

“Eight what?” Sarah looks back and forth between us. 

“Nothing, Mom. Just let him get through this.”

“Eight what?” Sarah repeats, a little more spun up this time. 

She sees Joan glance at the clock but misses the glare that follows, warning her mother to stop talking. We find that it’s sometimes best to keep from discussing the exact amount of time, only counting down when we’re under 2 minutes. 

“Eight minutes?” Sarah asks. “Until he can have more pain killers? Oh Joan, that’s too long. Do something for your brother.”

Joan hangs her head a bit in annoyance. “Like what? I’m not his attending nor could I do anything to speed this up even if I was.”

The two begin to bicker a bit, but I turn my attention back to Josh. He’s starting to hold his breath as a reflex to get by. 

“You’re doing great,” I try for more positive reinforcement. “But you have to breathe, Josh. That’s it. In and out. You’re so strong. I wish I could take the pain away for you.”

I lean down towards his ear and count breaths with him in a soft tone, an effort to both lower his blood pressure and distract him, and soon we’re nearing the two minute mark. He’s in the home stretch. At 60 seconds I grab the morphine clicker and when the time comes I place it in his hand. 

His relief is practically instant. I watch as the pain fades away and the tension dissipates. He’s breathing a little better and he has loosened his grip on my hand, though he’s still gently clutching it. He opens his heavily lidded eyes and meets mine, giving me a grateful look and a half smile that I know is reserved for only me. 

“Love you.” He states through an exhausted breath. 

I tenderly smooth his curls and lean down to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too,” I assure, moving my hand to cup his cheek. He rolls his head towards me, almost as though he’s craving the gentle contact. I don’t move away from him until he’s fast asleep. And even then, I don’t go far. 

When I hear the distinct rattle of a pill bottle I remember that Josh and I aren’t the only ones in the room. I watch Sarah throw back a handful of something I can’t identify but assume is a sedative as Joan silently shakes her head. 

“He’s going to be out for a while.” Joan breaks the silence. “And I brought you a change of clothes and some shower stuff.”

I stare at her, blinking a few times in borderline disbelief. 

“Shampoo and a pair of my sweats because I wasn’t sure if I should let myself into your place or what-“ she’s rambling out of nerves. 

“Thank you.” I interrupt before she feels uncomfortable. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ll sit with him until you’re back from the shower.” She tells me. 

I nod my appreciation and take the bag she’s packed for me. Even though Josh is likely to be out for a couple of hours, I don’t want to be away from him, so I hurry. 

I turn the water to a temperature that’s practically scalding and let it run over me, washing away the last 36 hours. The stiffness in my neck begins to go away after a few minutes so I quickly wash my hair and dress again, making my way to Josh as quickly as possible. My hair is damp and I’m bare faced, wearing Joan’s sweats and a pair of fur lined slippers, and I feel like a completely new woman when I return to his room. 

“Holbrook is ready for us.” Joan states as soon as I enter the room. 

“Us?” I question. 

She nods her head and gestures towards the hallway. I follow her and we stop on the other side of the glass to Josh’s room. He’s still sleeping fairly peacefully, and Sarah is dozing now, too. 

“I owe you an apology,” Joan admits. “A big one. I just… I know how he is with women. I’ve never seen him like that before, though. The way he responded to you. And the way you could calm him. You really care about each other.”

“We love each other,” I correct, but not in an arrogant way. 

“It still scares me,” Joan continues. “The two of you, I mean. I don’t want him to break your heart. I realize now that I don’t want to lose our friendship because my brother treated you poorly, but the way I handled that? It’s pretty clear that I was the one ruining our friendship anyway, regardless of Josh. Besides, you have seemed so happy lately. And Sam says that Josh has been walking around with a smile on his face for weeks, too. I guess I’ve been the only one not to see what was right in front of me all summer. I really think, I really hope, he can be the kind of man that you deserve. He’s lucky to have found you. You get Josh in a way I’m not sure anyone ever has.”

“You have no idea, Joan- he’s… he means the world to me.” I find myself getting slightly choked up as I watch him sleep for a moment before turning my attention back to Joan. “I owe you an apology too. I should have told you sooner. I wasn’t malicious keeping anything from you, but I should have made it a point to sit down and discuss this with you before you were blindsided by it.”

“Thank you.” Her acceptance is sincere. “I’m glad he has you.”

“I’m glad I have him, too.”


	21. Chapter 21

“20 minutes. It’s my final offer.” Josh states firmly. 

“Your final offer? You have no power in this situation.” I almost laugh, placing the remote well out of his reach. 

It’s been two and a half weeks since Josh was admitted to the hospital and he’s going a little stir crazy. I can understand his need to be entertained, and I’ve offered on multiple occasions to watch The Price is Right with him, but he’ll stop at nothing short of CNN. 

“You know the rules,” I warn. “You’re already having a high blood pressure day.”

“And who’s fault is that?” He rebutts. 

I give him a glare and he has the good decency to look sheepish. 

“I’m just so bored!” He lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Well,” I saunter over, “we’ve always been able to think of other things to do besides watch the news while you’re bored. Why should this be any different?”

“Close the curtain.” He smirks at me. And though we’re both aware it’s going to be a long time before he’s cleared for any of our old favorite activities, the mood in the room lightens considerably. It’s nice to have a bit of privacy now that he’s in a normal room. I run my fingers up his right arm and rest my forehead against his. We’re flirting shamelessly with each other right now, whispering playfully back and forth to each other, and I can’t help but to lean in and kiss him deeply. 

“Ack. People are here.” Joan loudly announces her arrival from the doorway. 

“Go away.” Josh halfway shouts, attempting to pull me back to his lips. I swat his arm playfully and he pretends to pout. 

“I brought lunch,” Joan announces and Josh perks right up. 

“Thank god. The food in this place sucks.”

“Joshua!” Sarah chastises. “Watch your language!”

Joan and I exchange a glance and try to stifle our giggles over what Sarah considers to be bad language. If only she’d ever heard her son speaking to a Republican Senator. 

“I thought you were going to be here an hour ago. I’m starving,” Josh complains just for sport. 

“We were, but Miss Havisham got out and I had to chase her down the block to get her back into the building.”

“Who?” Josh is completely lost. 

“Their cat,” I supply. 

“You have a cat?” Josh stares at Joan. 

“Yes.” Joan is short in her response. 

“Like a pet with a bell around its collar?” Josh is completely straight faced. 

“Yes. She’s a long haired Persian.” 

“And her name is Miss Havisham?” 

“Sam named her,” Joan replies somewhat smugly. 

“Oh-ho-ho. I’m not going to let that go,” Josh chuckles, genuinely amused. “And I really can’t wait to tell Toby.”

Joan passes out each of our orders and Josh visibly deflates when he opens his to go container to see a piece of unseasoned, grilled chicken breast and steamed vegetables. 

“Here, dear.” Sarah picks up half of her sandwich and places part of it on Josh's plate. “A little treat won’t hurt you.”

Josh has the good sense to glance over to Joan and I for approval before picking up the turkey and provolone on wheat toast. 

I sigh. “Take off the cheese and most of the mayo and you can have that section.”

He quickly agrees to my terms and savors his lunch. 

Sam stops by to say hello just as we’re finishing up. He kisses Joan and greets the rest of us jovially. 

“Do you want the rest of my lunch?” Joan offers. 

“No thanks,” Sam states cheerily. “Majority council sent Josh a huge gift basket of cured meats and assorted cheeses with a variety of spicy mustards. So Toby and I ate that.”

“Hey!” Josh protests. “Hands off the smoked meats!”

“Who sends a man in the cardiac unit a basket full of sausages and cheese?” Joan asks in borderline disbelief. 

“Well… the opposition leaders,” Sam responds in a matter of fact tone as he grabs a remote and takes a seat. “What are you watching? Is this an infomercial?”

“That serrated knife can cut through the metal on a half ton pick up truck, I’ll have you know. And it can be yours for three easy payments of $19.99 plus shipping and handling.” Josh spouts off. Clearly he’s seen this one a few times before. 

“Ok. Well how about we watch some baseball instead?” Sam suggests with an amused look on his face.

“While you guys do that, we better be off,” Joan begins casually. “Donna? Why don’t you join us.”

Josh raises an eyebrow and looks at me. I shrug my shoulders with no idea what’s going on. 

“Hold it.” Josh commands. “Nobody leaves until I know what’s going on.”

Joan sighs a bit. “I’m going to meet with potential candidates for the night shift of home healthcare.”

“Oh. Well, I can save you some time there. Don’t need one.” 

“I knew you were going to be this way,” Joan complained. “Don’t act like a petulant child about this. You’re going to need help when you’re released and Mom and I can’t do it all.”

“I know. Donna’s going to be there, though.”

He reaches his hand out to me and I take it, giving him a huge smile. We’ve already had this talk privately and came to the decision that I’d stay with him. I know it won’t be easy, but I want to be by his side through this. And he seems more comfortable with the thought of me helping him than a stranger. 

Joan raises her eyebrows at us. “You’re sure about this?” She asks. 

“Absolutely.” I respond with a smile. 

“But what if he needs professional care?” Sarah asks. 

“She can do it, Mom.” Joan responds firmly. “There’s no one I trust more than Donna.”

It’s high praise coming from Joan, whom I respect immensely. 

Josh gives my hand a little squeeze and I turn back to him. He's giving me a full dimpled grin. He’s been completely adorable for the last two days. He asked me to stay with him last night by sending two dozen red roses to his room with my name on the card. And then he told me how much he loves me and asked if I’d live with him. He seemed so sincere. It was really very sweet. 

Sarah announces that she will be heading back to Connecticut the following day. I think we’re all a little surprised that she made it this long, though she has been in a borderline comatose state the entire time she’s been here. Josh practically expected it, but I can tell it’s been very hard for Joan to watch. 

He talked to me about it yesterday. It was late and dark in the room, and he stared at the ceiling and clutched my hand and softly told me about the house fire when they were kids. He told me how much of that night he remembers. The heat and the smell and the chaos. Running outside and hiding in a far corner near the hedges that lined their yard. Waiting for his sister to follow him, and freezing with fear when he realized she wasn’t right behind him. He was just a little boy, and he did what he was supposed to do, I remind him, but the words feel as though they fall on deaf ears. It’s clear that he carried a tremendous amount of guilt over what happened to Joan that night.

He then recounts the months that follow. Joan’s lengthy hospital stay, her multiple surgeries and the considerations that had to be made for her health. His mother stayed with her, in a hospital in the city, for an amount of time that Josh can’t pinpoint, but he knows it was months. Through her days in the ICU, her stay, and her recovery. 

Josh was in Westport, with Noah when possible, and was looked after by a combination of neighbors and families from their synagogue the rest of the time. His father did the best that he could, trying to comfort a guilt ridden, traumatized child at home while finding the family a new house, visiting Sarah and Joanie in the city on lunch breaks and evenings before he’d head home and the occasional weekend, all while working full time. 

The weekends, Josh thought, were the hardest. Noah would head into the city on Saturday mornings, and Josh would sit with Mrs. Ebbert from next door until his mother came home. He’d be happy to see her, but she’d kiss him hello and immediately retreat to her room and sleep the day away until Mrs. Ebbert would return in the later afternoon so Sarah could catch the train back into the city and switch places with Noah. 

Josh had once, in the early days, convinced his father to take him to the hospital to visit Joanie. Sarah was skeptical but Noah was sure that the two needed to see each other. Though Joanie was bedridden at the time, Josh brought her a new stuffed toy that he’d picked out especially for her, and excitedly told her all kinds of stories. It was only a few minutes, however, until Josh made Joanie laugh and caused a coughing fit that was nearly too much for Joanie’s weakened lungs. It was the last time Sarah permitted Josh to visit. 

So he threw himself into doing whatever he could to please his parents. He tried hard in school, he behaved and he helped out around the house where he could, picking up his toys and learning to set the table. It wasn’t much different when Joan came home, either. Special considerations were always taken for her, and his mother doted on her in a way she never had with Josh. By the end of the following year, Josh had skipped a grade in school, and Joanie’s absences had caused her to be held back. 

On top of that, as Joan’s condition improved Noah was spending more time at the office and Sarah was spending more time sleeping the day away in her room with the help of a prescription from a doctor in the city. 

I think it’s fairly obvious that this is bringing up old memories for everyone.

So while they have all done their genuine best to provide Josh with love and support, I think it will be good for everyone to try and get back to their normal routines.


	22. Chapter 22

Sam helps Josh up the steps and when we finally make it inside of his apartment, I can easily see he’s exhausted. 

“The couch is fine.” Josh states, trying to play it cool. I don’t think he should sleep there but I don’t protest when Sam helps him sit down. He’s trying to act casual for the time being. We’ll get him situated when it’s just the two of us. 

Sam runs down to the car once again, grabbing the rest of the bags, and then says his goodbyes. Josh is barely keeping his eyes open so I help him to the bedroom. He protests, telling me he’s fine on the couch, but I know better and I think he does too. 

“What is this?” He complains loudly as soon as we cross the threshold into his bedroom. 

I’m caught a little off guard. 

“I’m not sleeping in a hospital bed anymore,” he states. “Get that thing out of here.”

“Josh.” I use my no nonsense voice but he doesn’t take much notice. “You can’t lay flat on your back while you sleep. Not yet, at least.”

“I’m done with the hospital bed,” he proclaims, shuffling towards his own queen size that’s been pushed into the corner. “I don’t even know why you would bring one in here.”

“Because you didn’t magically heal on the car ride home. If you want a fight, I’ll give you one, but this afternoon is not going to end with you laying flat on your back and coughing in your sleep until your stitches tear. So the way I see it is that you can get in the hospital bed or you can go back to the hospital. Which will it be?”

He’s staring at me, mouth slightly agape, and completely taken aback by my tone. But I don’t waiver. I’m not going to let him stunt his recovery because he’s being bullheaded. 

He mutters something under his breath and I can barely hear him call me Nurse Ratched, but I don’t care at this particular juncture. He gets in bed and I grab a pillow off the big bed for him. 

He’s asleep before I’m done pulling a blanket out of the closet, so I softly remind him that I love him and leave the door cracked when I exit the room. When he wakes up from his nap, we’re going to lay down some ground rules but until that time, I’ve got plenty of other things to attend to around the apartment. 

He sleeps longer than I anticipated, but I gently wake him that evening. He needs to eat a decent meal and take his medication. 

He wakes up affectionate, rather than grumpy. He seems genuinely grateful for my help. And it's not just me giving him the benefit of the doubt, as I tend to do. It's a pleasant surprise.

We eat dinner at the dining room table and though I’m sure he’s not thrilled about the healthy option I’ve prepared for him it beats the hospital food he’s been eating so he doesn’t baulk too much. 

He takes a quick shower with the door open, after complaining about the removable medical grade bench for him to sit on, and I wait just outside, should he need me. He protests loudly but it’s only a minute before I hear him sit down with a sigh when he runs out of energy. Neither of us say a word about it. Shortly thereafter I hear the water turn off and Josh grabs the towel, but doesn’t get up. I continue to wait, wanting to give him the space to do this on his own. I listen closely as I make the hospital bed with comfortable sheets and pillows before pulling out the needed supplies to change his bandage. 

I hear the glass door open and he slowly makes his way out of the shower, completely spent from the minimal activity. He makes his way over to me, a hand resting along the vanity for support until he’s sure of his balance and strength to make it to the edge of his bed. I know he’s exhausted because he doesn’t even make any attempt to flirt with me as he loses his towel and I help him change into pajamas. I look over his incision, which is healing nicely, and apply a new bandage. 

“Lay with me,” he requests, settling into the hospital bed. “Please.”

The bed is narrow, to say the least, but I’ve been craving contact with him for so long that I climb in and lay on my side, finding a way. 

He pulls me close with his right arm and smooths my hair a bit before kissing the top of my head and letting out a content sigh. 

“I missed this.” He tells me. 

“Me too.” I close my eyes and rest my hand on his leg. It finally feels like we can get back to just being us again and Josh can begin to try and move forward. 

He’s quiet but I know he’s not sleeping. Still, I choose not to say anything. I can tell he’s working through something in his head. 

“I was cold.” He’s speaking into the dark room as much as he is directly to me, but I don’t object. There’s clearly something on his mind. “That night, I mean. Logically, I realize it wasn’t cold out and that my body was probably just in shock, but that’s not really what I meant. I was alone. I was sitting there, bleeding onto the sidewalk as people rushed by me like I was invisible. I didn’t scream out- I couldn’t find my voice to scream out- and it was I don’t even know how long until anyone thought to look for me. I’m not a doctor but I’m not stupid either. I thought that was the end of my life. And do you know what? I wasn’t thinking about the President’s polling numbers or how to wrangle legislation through the House Subcommittee. I was thinking about you, Donnatella. And I wondered if you knew how much I love you? If you’d ever truly know.”

I feel the tears escaping my eyes and I want to tell him that I understand, and I love him too, but I don’t want to interrupt him. He needs to say this. I give his hand a gentle squeeze for encouragement.

“I haven’t done a very good job of expressing the full depth of my feelings to you,” he continues. “And I’m sure part of that is because I’ve had a hard time admitting them to myself. It’s not that I don’t want to, but rather because for so many years I didn’t believe I would ever find someone that made me feel like you do. I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling a love like this. I guess that’s why I kept our relationship so protected. I just knew I was going to do something to destroy us and I wanted to keep us in this little bubble where nothing could ever go wrong. And honestly, I still feel that way to an extent. I’ve never had a life before because I’ve never wanted a life before I met you. And the thought of doing something to lose you, or never really showing you how I feel about you? That scares me more than any bullet ever will.” 

I can’t control myself any longer, letting out a muffled sob and turning his head to face me before I kiss the air out of his lungs.

“I understand,” I tell him in the soft silence of his bedroom. “Because that’s the way I feel about you, too.”


	23. Chapter 23

I’m sipping a cup of hot tea in Josh’s living room the next morning when I hear him wake up. He’s slept in longer than I anticipated, but the rustle of the sheets followed by the creak of a floorboard is a dead give away that he’s up. Though I want to rush over and help him, I remain where I am. He may still be a bit weak but he can easily handle taking care of his morning routine on his own, and I want to give him his independence as much as possible. 

Eventually he shuffles out of the bathroom and down the hall to join me at the breakfast table. 

“Good morning.” He slowly leans over and kisses me hello before taking a seat. 

“Good morning yourself. How did you sleep?”

“Better,” he admits, scrubbing his hand over his face. “At least the room was dark and nobody came in to wake me up and prod at me during the night.”

He stretches his neck a bit and I immediately know why. I slept through the majority of the night in his hospital bed but it was cramped quarters to say the least. I’m a bit sore myself. We won’t be doing that again. 

“Do you want some breakfast?” I offer. “I was going to make oatmeal.”

“How about two fried eggs and French toast?”

“Seems unlikely.” I quip, heading into the kitchen, making two bowls of steel cut oats and adding a dash of cinnamon and handful of blueberries to each. 

“Hey Donna?” He asks, capturing my attention. 

“Hmm?” I look up from the blueberries I’m rinsing to see him looking around the apartment. 

“Where’s all of your stuff?” He’s wearing a confused face and he looks a bit nervous as well. 

“It’s in my gym bag,” I tell him. “The purple one that Sam carried up here for me last night.”

“Ahkay... But where’s the rest of it?”

“This is all I’ll need for a few days. I can go home and get whatever else I’ll need later on in the week.”

“Oh.” He stares at me and blinks twice. I can tell he’s disappointed even though he tries not to show it. 

“What is it?” I ask him. 

“Nothing.” He mutters, though I know that’s not true. 

“Josh…” I hand him a glass of water and place his pills in front of him before returning for our bowls of oatmeal and spoons. 

He picks up the spoon and begins pushing around his oatmeal in the bowl. Finally he drops the silverware and leans back in his chair. 

“I just thought you were bringing it all. Your things, I mean.” He declares, finally meeting my eyes again. 

“How much stuff will I need to stay with you for a couple of months?”

“I guess I was under the impression that you were agreeing to stay forever.” 

My jaw drops slightly and I find myself at a loss for words. 

“I’m not asking you to be my nurse for a few months, Donna. I’m asking you to be my partner in every aspect of my life.”

Something clicks in my head and I have no idea how I missed his intent the first time. The flowers. The nervousness written all over his face. 

I grin unabashedly and kiss him. It may be a little fast, but when everything is so perfect, why fight it? 

“It’s good to be home,” he smirks, a dimple making an appearance, when I finally pull away. 

We make plans for me to move my belongings to his place over breakfast, deciding in the process that we’ll buy a new bed. One that’s better for his back and has the ability to tilt the head forward, so we can spend the next few months side by side while he recovers. 

I’m not attached to any of my hodge podge furniture from my old place, and I tell him as much. I can easily sell it though, and since I’m on a month to month lease it won’t be difficult to end things with my landlord. 

I’m glad I’ve taken the rest of the week off, because in addition to Josh’s care we’ve also added a lot to my plate. None of it feels like a chore, though, because I’m over the moon to be making this commitment with him. 

“I’ve never lived with anyone before,” he tells me that afternoon.

I know he’s aware of my situation with Chad, so I don’t feel the need to point it out in that moment. I want today to be about us- about making good memories and starting a future together. 

“So it’s important to me that you know I really want this to work long term,” he continues. “Not just for 6 months or a year, but for the long haul. And I know you probably don’t want to talk about Dr. Freeride right now and, believe me, neither do I, but I want you to know that things are going to be different this time. I’m not him. I don’t expect you to cook and clean and cater to my every whim. I don’t expect my career to come before yours or my feelings to be more important. In fact, I’d love to take care of you sometimes, too. I want this to be a partnership.”

How he knows exactly what I need to hear, I’ll never understand. But I’m so thankful I found him. 

I lean over and give him a gentle kiss. 

“Partners.” I restate, emphasizing the importance of the equality he’s placing on our roles in this relationship. 

He eventually lays back down for a nap and I boot up my laptop to finish enrolling in my courses for my BSN program and taking care of a few other routine tasks such as paying my electric bill. 

I don’t want to make the same mistake twice, so when I’m chopping vegetables for our dinner, I pick up the phone and call Joan. She’s the first person that I’m sharing our news with and though her approval doesn’t correlate to my happiness with Josh, I find myself to be a little nervous for her response. 

I’m holding my breath when she lets out an excited squeal and tells me she’s thrilled, sending us heartfelt congratulations. She offers to help me pack my things and volunteers Sam to assist on moving day. I end the call with a huge smile on my face. 

Finally, everything in my life just seems so right.


	24. Chapter 24

I bend down in an effort to pull a pair of warm socks on his feet as we begin to get dressed on an early fall morning. 

“I’ve got it.” He snaps at me out of nowhere, yanking the sweatpants from my hands with as much force as he can muster and catching me off guard. “Why don’t you go do whatever it is you’d rather be doing?”

I stand there, a little stunned that he’s speaking to me this way. It feels like it’s coming out of nowhere. Everything was fine when we went to bed last night, and this morning has been business as usual, too.

“What?” He barks at me as I continue to stand infront of him, silent. 

“I want to be right here, Josh,” I tell him patiently. “With you.”

He scoffs, and it sends a pang through my chest at the thought that he doesn’t believe me. 

“Josh?” I ask gently, trying to figure out where this all coming from. I step forward and reach out to him but he moves away from me as quickly as he can. 

I’m physically recoiling a bit as he begins to grumble, sitting half dressed on the bed and shaking out the sweats I know he’s going to struggle to dress himself in. He’s only been home for a week. I know he’s frustrated but he’s still healing. 

“Please let me help you,” I request softly. “And then we can talk about this.”

“Just go, Donna. Leave me alone. I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help,” he spits at me. 

I open my mouth to respond but I can’t seem to find the words. I step away slowly and then turn on my heels and practically bolt into the living room, trying to keep the tears at bay until I know he can’t see me anymore. 

Reasonably, I know he’s just frustrated. I’ve seen plenty of people frustrated with their recoveries. But this feels different. This is Josh, and he’s not taking it out on me. I thought I was the one he didn’t speak to that way. It was probably naive but, I thought I was the exception. 

I sit down on the couch and cup my face in my hands, forcing myself to remain quiet. I listen as I hear him swear in frustration a few times, an theres at least one sharp intake of breath that I know is pain. I’ll be in there in a moment if he needs me, but right now I think he should be by himself. It’s only a moment later that I hear him forcefully throw the clothes into the hardwood floor. I can tell he’s shuffling over to the door, which he slams with everything he has. It’s not long after that the comforter on the bed moves a bit and I know he’s at least laying down. 

I quietly sit down on the floor in the hallway, leaning back against the wall next to his door so I can hear him if he wakes up. We have an open door policy right now, but if he needs to be mad at the world I’ll give him a half hour to get over it. 

“Donna?” He gently calls out for me a few minutes later. “Donna, I’m sorry. Can you come in here please?”

I stand up and pull myself together before I open the door, stepping a few paces inside but stop I in the middle of the room, remaining silent. 

“Oh sweetheart,” his face falls as soon as he sees me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“But you did.” The words are cold as the tumble out of my moth before I have a chance to think about what I’m saying. None of this has been easy on me, either, and I guess the stress and exhaustion are catching up with me. 

His eyes widen a bit and I immediately feel terrible. He struggles to sit further upright, and I see that he’s still in only his boxers. 

I realize he’s trying to apologize and I take a few steps forward, wanting to hear him out. 

“I had no reason to say those things or to act that way towards you. I just... I don’t know what got into me,” he tells me, as his voice rises in frustration and he maneuvers himself to sit on the side of the bed. “I find myself so angry sometimes. I just can’t stand feeling like such a burden!” 

“You’re not a burden, Josh.” I tell him, desperately hoping he hears the sincerity in my voice. “This is normal for your recovery. If anything you’re ahead of schedule. You have no idea how many patients-“

“I’m not your patient!” He shouts, interrupting me. “I’m your boyfriend! If you feel like this is an obligation or just another part time job, then just do us both a favor and leave.”

“Don’t you dare put words in my mouth.” I match him in intensity. “I’m here because I love you and you know that. Yes, it’s hard sometimes. It’s hard to see you in pain and frustrated and to know I can’t do anything more to help you. But I have never, for even one minute, been here because I felt obligated.”

He lets out a deep sigh and stares at a spot on the floor. 

“I know that.” He runs his hands over his face. It’s clear to me that his emotions are running him over right now. “But I still feel worthless. I can’t even bend over to put my pants on by myself or take a shower. God knows I can’t make love to you, not that you’d even want me to after seeing all of this, and with the monstrosity of a scar on my chest,” he motions to himself. 

“That scar,” I sit down next to him and reach out to gently cover it with my palm, “is proof you made it. That you fought through the impossible and can back to me. I’m never going to get tired of seeing that scar.”

He bristles a bit on reflex, but I know I’m getting through to him. He’s listening. 

“I know you’re in pain, Josh. I know every day you wake up exhausted and achy and frustrated. And do you know what? You have every right to feel that way, because something inexcusable happened to you and it sucks. It really does. But god, Josh. I wake up next to you every day and I say a prayer thanking god you’re still breathing.”

He moves his head slightly, turning to the side and resting his forehead against me. He’s holding onto my waist now, though he remains quiet. My hand doesn’t move from where it’s ever so lightly covering his beating heart. 

“Why do you stay?” He asks, studying my face as though he’s really trying to figure out the answer to his question. 

“Because I love you, Josh.” I tell him without wavering. “And that’s not going to change.”


	25. Chapter 25

As we climb the stairs to our apartment I can easily see that Josh is exhausted. 

We have our routine down fairly well most days, and he’s getting stronger all of the time. Today was a little bit different though. His normal PT had a scheduling conflict, so instead of first thing in the morning Josh was scheduled for the last session of the day. Add that to the fact that they’ve really ramped up the difficulty of his sessions and it’s not a great combination. 

But on top of being overly tired, he also has something else on his mind. I’m not quite sure what it is, but I think I’ll be able to get him to open up to me, like he has on so many nights in the last weeks. 

He heads straight back to the bedroom and I follow, slipping beside him to run a bath. 

He grumbles that he’s not in the mood to sit in the tub, but we both know he’ll be unbearably sore tomorrow if he doesn’t, so I proceed anyway. 

I was done with class early enough to drive him to therapy and it was nice to see the progress he’s made instead of just hearing about it second hand. Not that it isn’t obvious at home, too. 

“It’s ready for you.” I encourage as I drop another cup of Epsom salts under the hot water. 

“No.” He grumbles. 

“Okay. Suit yourself.” I shrug casually before shedding my own clothing and stepping in. 

His jaw goes slack and I can practically see him change his mind.

“You don’t play fair,” he tells me with a grin as he sits on the side, clearly wondering how to approach the situation. 

“Come on,” I take his hand and he sinks into the water as I guide him to lay back across from me.

We sit in comfortable silence for several minutes and my eyes flutter closed. I feel him gently lift my leg from where it’s resting beside his and begin to rub my feet. 

I sigh. It does feel nice, especially considering all of the hours I’ve spent standing this week. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one rubbing your sore muscles?” I ask, my head resting against the edge of the tub as I relax completely. 

“No.” He answers firmly. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to take care of you, too?”

“You’re a good man,” I tell him. 

“That’s debatable,” he mumbles. “I think there are more than a few members of Congress who would disagree.”

“Well, they’d be wrong. Besides, our living room could be easily mistaken for a floral shop with all of the arrangements and well wishes you’ve received from both sides of the aisle.”

“Yeah, but would it kill one of them to send a pizza instead of more stupid flowers?”

“Be grateful, Joshua, that they’re thinking of you.” I chide though I know he’s mostly kidding. 

“There’s something I want to ask you.” He changes the topic after a beat, though he’s staring at the bath bubbles instead of meeting my gaze. 

“Okay.” I gently acknowledge, allowing him to take his time. I knew there was something on his mind, but I honestly have no idea what it could be. I’ve done an effective job of rule enforcement, so I don’t think it’s work related. And if he wasn’t feeling well, he’d tell me. 

“When the mail came today I was opening a few things. Paying bills, mostly, and I accidentally opened a letter addressed to you. I didn’t realize it wasn’t for me until I’d already started reading.”

“Umm… okay?” I have nothing to hide, but I’m curious as to what has set him off in this way. 

“It was from the cashier's office at school. It said that you’d been approved for financial aid. That you’re taking loans out to pay your tuition.”

“Well… yes.” I laugh a bit. “It’s not a secret.”

“I can pay the tuition.” He states as though it’s no big deal, but I can tell he’s smart enough to be treading lightly as the conversation begins. 

I freeze and pull my leg away from him, shifting to sit completely upright in the water. 

“No.” I shake my head to emphasize my point. “That’s incredibly generous of you but… no.”

“Why not?” He’s ready to argue about this. I can see it on his face. 

“Because, Joshua! People don’t just pay other people’s tuition!”

“It’s not like I’m some random stranger,” he rationalizes. “We share this apartment and our free time. Why can’t I help you with this?”

“I can’t ask you to do that. Do you know what it will look like?” He, of all people, should know to consider the way this would be perceived. 

“It would look like two people who are in the process of combining their lives are also combining their checking accounts.” I can tell that he’s trying to remain calm, but his irritation is growing. “I don’t care what it looks like. I care what it is. Besides, we’re just going to pay them off after we get married anyway. Might as well save ourselves the interest.”

My eyes widen and I stare at him. “What did you just say to me?” I probably look like a cartoon character, but I can feel myself start to smile.

Josh returns the smile a little softly, then tries to play it cool, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“I mean, that’s the plan, isn’t it?”

The smile continues to tug at the corner of my mouth. “I don’t know. Is it in your plan?”

“It’s in my plan.” He gives me a full dimpled grin.

I can’t help acting a bit coy back. “And does this plan of yours include a proposal at some point?”

“It does. And when I ask you, I’m going to sweep you off your feet, Donnatella Moss. You’ll see.”

“Oh? Will I?” I grin.

“Yes. But I have to woo you first.”

“Josh, the wooing doesn’t have to include paying my tuition. Really.”

“I know it doesn’t have to. But I want it to. I’d like to lighten the load for you. Give you some breathing room while you get through school. Maybe you could find a way to cut back your hours a bit and focus on this opportunity if you didn’t feel so financially burdened.”

“Can I think about it?” I ask timidly. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, it’s just a lot to consider.

“Ahkay.” He agrees. “But Donna?”

“Hmmm?”

“You’re a smart woman, there’s no ill intent here and it’s not really that hard of a decision in the long run, kay?”


	26. Chapter 26

“Dinner was delicious, Donna.” Joan compliments me as Sam and Josh clear the table. 

“Yes.” Sam agrees. “Thank you for having us over. We’re honored to be your first dinner guests.”

“Thanks for coming, buddy.” Josh claps Sam on the back in the kitchen. And while his friends have stopped by on and off throughout his recovery, tonight feels like something different entirely. It’s us, as a couple, having them over for dinner in our condo. It feels so official. 

I’ve cut my hours at the hospital back considerably as a result of school and caring for Josh. But he’ll be transitioning back into his role as Deputy a Chief of Staff next week, and I’ll be taking a few more shifts at the hospital. At first he was worried that I was stressed about money, but now he understands that I genuinely like my job. I make an impact in people’s lives. It’s something he can relate to, so he’s been very supportive of my irregular hours. 

Joan brings up the holidays, asking us if we’d like to come to Thanksgiving at their place or if we should all drive to Connecticut together. 

We debate the merits of both choices but don’t come to a conclusion other than the fact that we are spending the holiday together. Joan and Sam are headed to California for Christmas with the Seaborn family, she tells me. It’s clear that she’s excited about the trip. I know that Josh and I will both be be working that week, and in all reality I’m fine with staying in DC anyway. 

Sam’s phone rings and he answers, greeting CJ and listening for a moment until he pulls the phone away. 

“She’s with Toby,” he explains to all of us, before making careful eye contact with me and asking, “they’d like to know if it’s okay to stop by and watch the midterm returns come in?”

I look at Josh, who is clearly already pushing the limits of what his body can handle, but he looks so excited at the prospect of CJ and Toby joining us. 

“Fine by me,” I answer honestly. And it is. They’ve all been great over the last few months. And I’m not going to let Josh get too worked up or too tired tonight anyway. “We have plenty of cake for dessert.”

“Tell them to bring a couple six packs!” Josh adds, which earns him a pointed look from me.

“Is that a thing?” I quietly ask Joan in an aside. 

“Is what a thing?” She stares at me, confused. 

“CJ and Toby.”

“I’ve always suspected. But I have no real confirmation either way.”

“That’s a shame.” I shrug. “They seem like they’d be good together.”

I chat with Joan while Sam and Josh catch up as well. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually tells Sam. “I’m exhausted. I just need a minute if CJ and Toby are going to come over.”

I watch him closely, glad that he’s being honest about what he needs in his recovery, as he excuses himself to our bedroom for a few minutes. 

Sam asks me if he should call CJ to cancel, and if he and Joan should leave too, but I tell him no. Just give Josh a few minutes to rest and he’ll be glad to see everyone. 

Sam spots Toby parking CJ’s mustang parking at the end of the block, so he and Joan head outside to meet them, taking a seat on the steps and opening a couple of beers. 

I quietly slip into our room and perch on the side of the bed. 

Josh opens his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. 

“You want to call it a night?” I ask gently. He’s been going all day, with the added exhaustion of entertaining for dinner.

“No.” He stretches a bit and then sits up. I see that he’s changed into a pair of giant pajamas that CJ gifted him when he came home from the hospital. He slips into a pair of house shoes and looks down at himself for a second. 

“Nobody will mind if you wear your pajamas,” I tell him softly. 

He nods once and takes my hand as we make our way out of the apartment and down the steps. When we reach the doorway to the building I see him plaster a smile on his face and greet his friends with a joyful facade. 

He sits down on the step and CJ greets us both, handing me a beer. I pop the top and take a sip, sitting it between Josh and I to share. 

I listen as they discuss the election returns, but my mind begins to wander. I realize that over the course of my relationship with Josh, my life has changed- for the better- in so many ways I would never have anticipated. Not only am I in a loving and stable relationship with the man of my dreams, my dearest friendship has blossomed as a byproduct and I can honestly say that it feels as though my extended family has grown, too. The White House staff have been so welcoming and kind to me. Sam, Toby, CJ, Charlie and most of all Leo have become pillars of strength for Josh and I over the last few months. 

I pull myself back to reality when I realize CJ is asking my opinion on a couple of ballot initiatives out of Wisconsin. 

We chat for a little longer, but Josh is fading fast and we all see it. Our guests say their goodbyes and we head back inside, and straight for bed. Josh dozes off before I do, but I don’t mind. I lay in the still, dark room and listen to his rhythmic breathing. 

While he’s not completely in the clear for long term medical side effects, Josh is doing remarkably well in his recovery. He’s given his best effort to stick to a heart healthy lifestyle and PT routine. After a very delicate conversation following an argument earlier this week, he also agreed to talk to Stanley about everything he’s experienced. He wasn’t wild about the idea, given his position, but after waking up in a cold sweat two nights in a row he promised me he’d make an appointment. 

And as far as whatever lies ahead in our journey? I fall asleep knowing we’ll be okay because we have each other.


	27. Chapter 27

6 Months Later

I hear Josh let himself into the apartment and lock the door behind him. I glance at the clock on my nightstand. 3am. Again. 

The distinct sound of closing deadbolts and the thud of his backpack onto the floor are immediately followed by the woosh of fabric on his suit jacket as he discards it onto the dining room table and the opening of the fridge door. 

I left him a plate, so I’m not surprised when the silverware drawer rattles open and the aluminum foil that's covering it is crinkled into a ball and tossed away. A few bottles clink against each other and a cap is pried off of one and dropped onto the countertop as the fridge door slams shut again. 

I get out of bed, combing through my hair a bit with my fingers and squint against the bright lights in our kitchen. 

“Aren’t you going to heat those up?” I announce my presence as he eats a forkful of cold mashed potatoes. 

He looks over to me and raises his eyebrows before swallowing. “I didn’t want the microwave to wake you up.”

I shake my head slightly but smile. He really is a very sweet man. 

I kiss his cheek hello and jump up to sit on the counter near the spot where he’s holding his plate and eating over the sink. 

“Another late night,” I note. 

“Yeah.” He doesn’t meet my eyes. 

“That’s the 4th one this week. You didn’t even come home last Thursday.”

He glances over to me and sees me intently studying his face. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask softly, reaching over to lightly touch his arm. 

He freezes as though he’s mentally calculating how much he can talk to me about whatever has him holed up in strategy sessions. 

“I’m not asking about work,” I amend quickly. “I’m asking about you.”

I see him relax and put down the plate, stepping over to stand between my legs as he takes my face in his hands and meets my eyes. 

“I’m okay.” He holds my gaze for a while, obviously trying to assure me that he is, in fact, alright. 

It works. I see exhaustion and some stress and a bit of disappointment, but I can tell it’s all directed at whatever is happening inside the White House. 

“Okay.” I tell him softly, leaning in for a gentle kiss. 

I won’t complain about the rigors of the job or his inability to be home for dinner at 6 every night. My one condition, however, is that he takes care of himself. So far, he’s done an excellent job. His blood pressure is reasonable, he’s doing a pretty good job of sticking to a heart healthy diet and he talks to Stanley Keyworth for a regularly scheduled session every two week. I make a point of not asking for details about their calls and Josh is honest with me if he’s feeling overwhelmed by something. I know talking to someone on a regular basis has helped Josh deal with the stress of what happened to him last summer, and I’m so grateful that he’s been proactive in his own mental health care. 

He kisses my forehead and pulls me close. We stay in each other's arms for a few moments but I think he’s about to fall asleep standing up. 

“Lets go to bed,” I suggest, hopping down and leading him back to the bedroom. He sheds his suit and climbs in, pulling me close and passing out virtually instantly. 

I’m not far behind him, but when my alarm clock goes off at 5:30, I’m a bit concerned when he gets out of bed, too. 

He kisses me goodbye and is on his way back to the office before I leave for work. Whatever is happening in the West Wing right now must be substantial. 

I go about my day as if everything is normal, and for the most part it is. 

Joan glances around to make sure we’re alone before speaking as we grab our bags and walk out of the hospital. 

“I doubt they’ll be home tonight,” she begins. I can’t say that I disagree. “Want to grab dinner and a glass of wine?”

We agree to meet in an hour at the trattoria down the block from Josh’s place. 

We order our dinner and a glass of wine each and are immediately deep in conversation. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to catch up like this and I’m glad to have the opportunity, though I wish it didn’t come at the expense of Josh’s stress level. 

“Josh mentioned that your mom is going to be in town for a long weekend.” 

“Yeah.” Joan sighs a bit. “She gets in on Thursday.”

“This Thursday?” I furrow my brow. Josh didn’t mention that detail and I wonder if he remembers himself. 

“It was a last minute change of plans. I’m not exactly sure what the deal is, but I’m guessing, by the look on your face, Josh didn’t get that memo?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t think that he did. I’ll tell him tonight.”

“Thanks,” Joan takes a sip of her wine and gives me a funny look. 

“What?”

“It’s just… I know I had my doubts about the two of you, but you’re really a great couple. I wanted to say that. This is certainly the happiest I’ve ever seen Josh, and it’s obvious with you, too. The way he looks at you? It’s really something. I would never have guessed.”

“Thanks.” I blush a bit. “Everything really does feel perfect.”

We split a dessert and exchange a hug before we go our separate ways, though I’ll see her tomorrow at work. 

When I get back to the apartment that night there’s a blinking light on the machine and a message from Josh telling me he’ll be late again. He makes it a point to tell me that he loves me and not to steal the covers from his side because he’ll be home at some point. 

I leave a note for him on the counter and wear his T-shirt to bed. Though I don’t fully wake up when he slides in next to me, I’m instantly at peace again when he does.


	28. Chapter 28

He has been amped up to peak levels of Josh-ness this week. The stress of spending all hours holed up at the White House in anticipation of what was to come, the actual highs and lows of dealing with the fallout from the President's announcement of his MS diagnosis and his reelection bid and everything that went with it. I’ve honestly barely seen him in days. 

I stopped by the White House to take him a change of clothes and some breakfast a few days ago. He made some time for me and I was appreciative because I know he’s not an easy man to pin down lately. We spent the bulk of the time practically making out in his office though, so we haven’t talked about any of this. Not that we have to. In fact, he makes it a point to try and leave as much of his work out of our relationship as possible. It’s fine with me, as I know he realizes he can come to me when needed. It’s just a method to allow him to actually relax when we’re at home. 

I hear him walk through the door after another late night. Well, I guess it’s pretty much morning right now. I smile to myself but can’t find the energy to move. I know he’ll be laying beside me in a minute or two. 

But instead of his footsteps coming down the hallway, I hear him mutter a few profane words and then bellow my name from the living room. 

“Josh?” I’m up in a flash. “Are you okay?”

“What- What is this?” He looks devastated as he holds up a copy of the morning paper.

Confused, I take it from him. It’s dated today and there, on the front page below the fold, is a photo of me under a headline reading Nurse Paid MS Hush Money by Bartlet Administration. 

“You knew?” Josh asks quietly, almost as if he’s hurt. I think he knows the answer to the question before he asks. 

“Well… I…” I don’t know what to say here. I’m trying to wake up so I can read this article and figure out what’s going on. 

“How could you know and not say anything to me?” He bellows. 

“Because!” I match his tone for no other reason than to capture his attention. “I’m not a political operative, I’m a nurse and I was abiding by HIPAA laws! Besides. The second I stepped out of that OR, President Bartlet’s medical history was the furthest thing from my mind.”

Josh let a long breath escape his lips as he scrubbed his hand harshly over his face. “Yeah. I’m sorry, that was out of line.”

“Do you want to sit down so we can talk about what this article says?” I ask, making my way to the couch and beginning to read. He follows me but doesn’t take a seat, opting to pace the floor in front of me instead. I’m hardly surprised. 

The article alleges that following my review of President Bartlet’s medical history, I approached several members of the White House senior staff and threatened to go public with the Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis. It claims that in an effort to avoid a leak, the Bartlet Administration used backdoor channels to pay for my silence. They cite Josh’s payment of my tuition directly from his accounts to the University as their proof. It doesn’t mention our relationship, our history prior to that horrible night or the fact that we’ve been happily planning our future together. 

I’m angry, I’m humiliated and most of all, I’m heartbroken. I would never even contemplate anything like what they’re accusing me of but there it is, in black and white, for the world to see. 

“You know that I’d never-“

“I know.” Josh assures before I even have a chance to finish the thought. “And you know that I didn’t offer because-“

“I know.” I give him a soft smile. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he sits down next to me and speaks slowly, putting his arm around me. 

“What do we do?” I ask, fearful of what’s to come. 

“We’ll call CJ and Toby and Sam and come up with a strategy. And then we’ll talk to Leo. So let’s take a quick shower and head back into the White House. Just stay away from the press corps, okay?”

My eyes widen at that, but he just laughs it off. 

“I’ve found it to be a good rule of thumb no matter the situation.”

We both shower fairly quickly and while I’m finishing my makeup, Josh is at the sink next to me with a towel wrapped around his waist as he shaves. 

He flips open his cell and presses speed dial 4, placing it on speaker and sitting it back on the counter. 

A muffled hello comes through a moment later. 

“Claudia Jean.” Josh’s voice booms and even in light of the situation at hand, I can tell he’s deriving at least a little enjoyment from waking her up this way when the issue is something for which he can’t be blamed. 

“This better be good, idiot boy,” she spouts off. 

“It could be worse,” he states. “But it could be better. Either way- you’re my first call. Meet me in my office in an hour. I’m calling Sam and Toby, too.”

She groans in frustration and ends the call. From Josh’s non reaction I’m going to guess that is how the bulk of their phone calls go. 

Josh then wakes Sam, who is instructed to bring Joan with him, and Toby, who sounded like he was already up. I smile to myself when it sounds like Toby is expecting the early morning wake up, wondering if perhaps we woke him when we called CJ. But that, I remind myself, is not the issue currently at hand. 

Josh dresses quickly and we lock up before he takes my hand and walks me to his car, holding the door as I climb in. We stop for a box of bagels to share with our friends and make our way to the White House. Josh speaks to the agent in the foyer and I’m given a different type of visitor's pass than when I stop in to meet him for lunch. 

He assured me over and over that everything will be fine, but the longer we sit inside of his office, the more my nerves grow. 

I trust Josh completely. Which is good, because I feel like I’m in over my head with this.


	29. Chapter 29

CJ arrives first, followed by Toby only a few minutes later. Sam and Joan take considerably longer to show up, but when they do Josh has already been through the whole story once and CJ and Toby are strategizing as Josh and I answer any questions. 

None of them at any point ask us if there’s a shred of truth to any of it. It’s nice that they know us better than that. Most of the questions come from Joan who is curious as to why someone would concoct a story like this and how they know about any transactions concerning her family’s trusts. Both are valid lines of inquiry. 

CJ, Toby and Sam set out to put their plan in place. The basic idea is to simply explain it’s a non issue. I was abiding by HIPAA regulations and didn’t expose my patient’s confidential information. Any decent healthcare provider would do the same thing. I at no time told anyone, including Josh, about my knowledge of the President’s MS. I did not demand, nor was I offered, any payment for my silence. 

Josh has senior staff in 10 minutes, and asks me if I’m okay in his office until that time. He has to find a deputy to take a meeting for him. 

I am, of course, and I tell him so. Joan stays with me, sitting down in the visitors chair beside me. 

“You okay?” She’s clearly as shocked by all of this as I am. 

I shrug my shoulders. “I guess. I’m just overwhelmed.”

“Understandable. But Josh and Sam? They’re going to protect you. CJ and Toby, too. Everyone around here is good at their job.”

“Thanks.” I stare at my clasped hands, still feeling the weight of this on my shoulders. “What do you think about this?”

“Well… I think a lot of things. I think that you were doing your job and being a good nurse. You delivered a high level of care to the president and the AmChadan people should be grateful for that instead of chasing you. I also think that the way Josh spends the money in his trust is nobody’s business but Josh’s and yours.”

“You don’t feel like I’m taking advantage of him?”

“Are you?” She gives me some sass and raises an eyebrow at me. 

“No!” Of course I’m not. 

“Well, then there you go. That money is in a trust to put Lymans through college, and that’s what it’s doing.”

“But I’m not a Lyman.” The statement seems to be glaringly obvious. 

“Yet.” Joan smirks. 

My eyes widen. “What does that mean?”

“It means that when my mom came to town last weekend she brought an antique jewelry box with her, which I thought was my birthday gift. But she slipped it to my little brother after dinner when you weren’t paying attention and gave me a new pair of shoes.”

My jaw drops. 

“And look, I hate to ruin a surprise, but nobody will tell me what’s going on and Donna- it’s absolutely KILLING ME.” She makes a dramatic voice change and we both burst into laughter. 

“Well I’m not sure you’ve got good intel on that one,” I tell her nervously. “I don’t think Josh is ready for that any time soon.”

“I see the way he looks at you. It’s… well, okay, it’s a little weird for me. But he loves you, Donna. He’s going to get you through this little hiccup and you two are going to be very happy together. Honestly when Sam drug me in here this morning I thought it was going to be for you to announce you’re making me an aunt.”

My eyes widen and I feel myself turn pink. “No. That’s not…”

She smirks at me and rolls her eyes. “Maybe not today. But I think we both know it’s not that far away for you two, either.”

She reminds me to call into work today and tells me to let her know if I need anything. 

Josh walks me to senior staff with him and I wait outside of Leo’s office in Margaret’s area. She’s exceptionally kind, reassuring me that the story will be gone by the end of the week and offering to split a muffin with me. 

I decline and soon the door to Leo’s office opens and Josh motions me in, placing his hand on the small of my back for support. 

“Donna.” Leo grins broadly at me. “Good to see you. Please, have a seat.”

“I’m terribly sorry that you were dragged in to all of this,” he continues. “And I want you to know that while nobody in their right mind wants to do away with HIPAA laws, the press sometimes get carried away. CJ is going to remind a few people at her morning briefing that they’re out of line and if that doesn’t seem to clear the air, Sam and Toby will draft a statement for the President to release this afternoon. Now, do you have any questions for us?”

“Is there anything that I can do?”

“Just don’t let them get to you, kid.” Leo chuckles as he stands, rounding his desk towards my chair. 

“Thanks, Leo.” I give him a hug and tell him we expect to see him for dinner sometime soon. 

There’s a small group of us in Toby’s office when CJ takes the podium for the briefing. She defends me when asked about the story, and then she takes it a step farther, adding a few lines about common decency and abiding by privacy laws. 

The story, as Toby announces as he clicks off the tv, will be dead by tomorrow’s news cycle. 

“Now what?” I ask Josh. 

“Now… you have the day off.” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t necessarily just roam the streets of Georgetown seeing as your photo is on the front page, but this thing will die out on its own.”

“Okay… Well, I suppose a lazy day doesn’t sound too bad. Any chance you can sneak out of here early?” 

He sighs. “Probably not.”

“Alright.” I admit defeat and wrap my arms around his waist and stand with him for a moment, just wanting to be near him. 

“You’re off on Saturday too,” he reminds me. “I’ll make sure I’m done by noon and we can spend the day together.”

“I’d like that,” I tell him with a smile as he gently takes me hand to walk me out.


	30. Chapter 30

We’re stopped 3 times on the way to the car, even though I avoided the press room. Josh quickly skirts the reporters questions, and I’m glad that he’s there to do it. By the time we actually reach his car, he’s completely abandoned the idea of sending me home on my own. He climbs into the driver’s seat and quickly makes his way to Georgetown. We’re both relieved to see there aren’t any photographers in front of our apartment. He sees me inside and kisses me goodbye before returning to the office.

I’ve been given strict instructions to screen calls and not answer the door, which I am more than willing to follow closely. I close the curtains on our large windows and though I miss the natural light, I’d rather not take any chances. Just the thought of the press lurking outside is enough to make me slightly uncomfortable in my own home. Hopefully, it’s not something we will have to worry about. 

I look around for something to do, hoping to take my mind off of things. I make a cup of tea and wander back to the bedroom, drawing a hot bath. I can’t relax very well though, because my mind won’t stop wandering. I hate the idea that I’ve made any trouble for Josh or the Bartlet administration. I give myself a pedicure, sort through both sides of the closet and clean the apartment from top to bottom. When I check the time, It’s only been about 2 hours. I let out a frustrated puff of air and wonder how I’m supposed to stay inside for the foreseeable future. I peek out the front window and spot a growing press corps by our front stoop before retreating back into the living room. 

Josh calls practically every hour, and Joan checks in with me twice. Other than those two, I’ve been avoiding the other callers. That includes my mother, who is less than thrilled at the accusations being made about me on national television. I can tell by her voice in the message she leaves that she is considering asking me if it’s true. That one stings a bit. 

I make a grilled cheese because I’m in the mood for comfort food, and curl up on the couch with my sandwich. I’ve just turned the television to a show where neighbors redecorate each other’s homes for a bit of mindless company when the landline rings. 

I stare at it, chiming from where it’s been placed on the table next to the couch, and sigh. I’ll definitely be ignoring that. Practically everyone calls my cell. 

The answering machine clicks on and after the beep I hear Josh’s mother come over the line. 

“Donna? Josh said you’d be home and screening calls. It’s Sarah. Can you pick up please, dear?”

I scramble to grab the phone, pressing the button to take the call.

“Sarah? Hi. I’m here.” I sit back into my spot on the couch, but my heartbeat increases. I fidget with the charm on my necklace while my mind goes to the worst case scenarios as I wonder what she’s about to say to me. 

“Well, hello dear. It’s good to hear your voice. How are you doing?” Her tone is soothing, butI’m still on guard. Though Josh has been open with me about his complex family dynamics, there’s never been any doubt that Sarah only wants what is best for her children. She just doesn’t deal with stress very well. 

“I’m alright,” I hedge. But to be perfectly honest, I feel the embarrassment rising inside of me a bit. I hope she doesn’t believe any of this. I would never use Josh, and I know he’s confident in that fact. But I’d hate for Sarah to think I was taking advantage of him. “I take it you’ve seen the news?”

“I have. And it’s just awful that they’re doing this to you kids. I mean, what kind of a person would invent those lies about you?”

“Well, I don’t know. But the tuition payment? He did make that on my behalf. I wasn’t sure if you knew.”

She laughs softly. “I did. He mentioned it to me a few months ago.”

“And you’re not upset? You don’t think I should have fingered out how to pay for it myself?”

“Of course not.” She scoffs. “Besides, you did your part. You earned practically a full scholarship, and you’re still working. Though from what I hear it's driving Josh half crazy that you insist on paying your portion of the monthly household expenses.”

“I’m living here,” I defend. “I’m going to chip in.”

“I love the fight inside of you, Donna. It’s good for my son. Keep him on his toes and do whatever makes you comfortable. Don’t worry about what the outside world thinks. I don’t pretend to understand my son completely, but I think you do. And I’m certain I’ve never seen him so happy before.”

I feel myself smile a bit. I’m confident in my relationship with Josh, but his mother’s approval does mean a lot to me. 

“Thank you. He makes me happy too.”

“Well that’s all that matters then, isn’t it? The rest is inconsequential.”

“Yes,” I agree, my perspective on the morning's events shifting into a new light. 

“I'd like to come down for a visit when this all blows over and you two have some time. I'm sure I’d enjoy getting to know you all the better, dear. Take care of yourself, Donna. And let Joshua take care of you as well, Hmm?”

“I will. Thank you.”

We end the call and I suddenly have a new perspective. I will not be deterred by the gaggle on my front porch. I’m not going to do anything stupid, or to make this harder on Josh and CJ, but I’m not going to hide either. Josh and I did nothing wrong. We’re two consenting adults in a loving relationship just living our life together. 

I walk back over to the side window and open the curtains, keeping the sheets in place. The sunlight warms the room immediately and I reasonably know the press corps can’t really see me at this angle. 

I then head into the kitchen and rifle through the pantry. If I’m going to be home all day, I might as well make a decent meal while I’m here.


	31. Chapter 31

With the exception of work and class, I’ve stay fairly well hidden from the public over the course of the last few weeks. I haven’t gone out of my way to alter my routine significantly, but I haven’t done the press corps any favors, either. The story has indeed died down, just as Josh and CJ promised it would. The statement that Sam and Toby wrote probably didn’t hurt, either. 

I’m laughing at a story Joan is telling me about our friend Barb and a blind date when a man pops out of seemingly nowhere. 

“Donnatella Moss?” He stares at me stone faced. 

“Yes…” I furrow my brow, wondering who he is and what he could possibly want. 

He reaches out and hands me a large envelope before he begins to speak again. “You’ve been-“

“Wait!” Joan shouts, practically knocking my hand down from where I’m reading for the envelope. In a flash she flips her cell phone open and hits the button for the first caller on speed dial, pulling me a few steps away from the man in the process. 

I’m a bit confused by what’s transpiring. 

“Sam? It’s me,” I see her eye the man in the cheap suit as she speaks. “Someone is trying to serve Donna. What do we do?”

“Oh. Oh!” My eyes widen. They’re serving me? I feel somewhat silly for not catching on earlier. 

“Mhmm. Uh huh. Okay.” Joan says unto the phone. “Thanks. Love you too. Here she is.”

She hands me her cell and I answer hesitantly. “Hello?”

“Hi Donna. It’s Sam. You’re going to be served. It’s okay. We are all in the same boat, but don’t worry. You’ve got nothing to worry about. So go ahead and take the documents from the man, and then why don’t you and Joan head over to The White House. We can all order some food and sort through everything.” 

Sam’s calm, collected instructions are a strong contradiction to the sound of Josh having an absolute conniption fit in the background of the call. 

I hang up, asking Sam to tell Josh I’m on my way over.

I accept the paperwork and Joan suggests we call a cab, knowing that parking is a nightmare at The White House. 

“You were quick on your feet back there,” I tell her with a smirk. “Where’d you learn those moves? Does it come naturally from being around your Dad and Sam?”

“Nah,” she shrugs. “I just watch a lot of Ally McBeal.”

I laugh outright and pull my ID out of my wallet to hand to the agent at the gate. I’m barely through the door when Josh practically skids around the corner to the lobby, bee lining over to me. 

“I’m so sorry,” he cups my face and gives me a kiss. It’s a nice greeting, but is guilt is severely misplaced. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, Joshua.” I take his hand. “Lets go to your office for a minute, Hmm?”

“I’m going to find Sam,” Joan advises. 

“We’ll be over in a minute.” I assure as we part ways. 

“How’d you know I’d arrived,” I ask out of curiosity. 

He blushes a bit. “I was watching for you out the window.”

“You’re very sweet,” I tell him softly as we cross the threshold into his office and he shuts the door behind him. 

He leans in and kisses me tenderly, wrapping his arms around me. I hold him tight and we stand in silence for a few moments. I know we both feel the stresses of our days melting away. 

“I hate that you have had to deal with this. With all of it,” he tells me. 

“Stop apologizing,” I request as I lay my head on his shoulder and my fingers gently intertwine in the curls at the nape of his neck. “None of this is your fault.”

“It kind of his,” mutters. “They’re just doing this to you because they’re trying to rattle me.”

“Well I’m concerned that it seems to be working,” I tell him, glancing up to study his face. 

“Well how could it not?!” He’s riled up again. “But they’ve crossed a line with this. They have a problem with me? Fine. Take it up with me but they don’t get to drag you into it for sport.”

“Joshua.” I implore him, interrupting his rant. “Be still.”

He pulls me a little tighter and kisses the top of my head softly. 

Once I’m sure he’s calmed down a bit I gently step away from him. 

“I was promised Chinese food,” I remind him playfully. “And someone is supposed to tell me what I need to do with that envelope.”

“Yeah.” He scrubs his hands over his face and puts himself back into work mode. Though I’d vastly prefer that we call it a night and he gets a little rest, I know things will be better for everyone in the long run if we deal with all of this now. 

He grabs the envelope from where it’s been tossed down on the corner of his desk and shrugs out of his jacket. It’s well past normal business hours. 

“Come on,” he opens the door for me and leads me through the bullpen with his hand on the small of my back. “I think everyone’s in the Roosevelt Room.”

I say a passing hello to a few familiar faces along the way, and step inside to the room housing senior staff and their top aides as Josh closes the door behind us. 

“Donna was served this morning,” Josh announces unceremoniously, tossing down the documents in front of a petite blonde woman with a warm smile. “And we want to get in on the Chinese order if it hasn’t gone out yet.”

Josh busies himself catching up with Ed and Larry about a few things, talking animatedly about what he’d like to do with a certain Senator and his legislative agenda. He’s a master of distraction, that man of mine, but I know it’s just a facade. He doesn’t want to let the other staffers see him flustered like he was a few minutes ago in his office. 

“I’m Ainsley Hayes, from council's office,” the woman rifling through my envelope extends her hand to me. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Josh practically gushes over your any time he has the opportunity. Don’t worry, Donna. We’re going to make this as easy on you as possible.”

I return her smile and sit back in my chair, glancing around the room as Joan and Sam enter from a side door, followed by Leo and Margaret. Ginger and Bonnie are teasing Toby, but none of them ever stop working. Josh is playfully bickering with CJ and Carol over how many orders of egg rolls are appropriate. 

Suddenly, I’m feeling much better about this entire situation, and quite fortunate to have all of  
these extraordinary people in my life.


	32. Chapter 32

“Hi, Sam.” I stand in the doorway to his office, Josh at my side. 

“Donna! Good morning! Come in. It’s nice to see you.”

Sam stands from where he’s seated behind his desk and walks over to greet us as I step inside.

“What about me?” Josh quips. 

“What about you?” Sam retorts, straight faced. 

“I get no love around here,” Josh grumbles as he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and closes the door behind him as he exits the room, stepping into Toby’s office. 

Sam offers me a seat and I accept, watching out of the corner of my vision as I see Toby tell Josh to go away and then roll his eyes when Josh paints himself of Toby’s couch and clicks on the television. 

“So,” Sam begins, taking his own seat again. “This won’t take long. But your deposition is tomorrow. How are you feeling?”

“Well...” I tuck my hair behind my ear nervously. “I’m unsure of what to expect.”

“Ah. Perfectly normal feeling.” Sam’s tone remains chipper. “But really Donna, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

“If it’s going to be so easy, then why am I here,” I ask gently. “I’m certainly appreciative of your help, Sam, but when you asked me to come in, it made me start to wonder just what I’m in for.”

“Our meeting this morning is a precaution,” Sam assures. “I’m sure everything would have been fine either way, but I just wanted to make sure you knew what to expect tomorrow.”

“But couldn’t Josh have filled me in? I mean, he went to law school.”

“There are some of us that feel Josh is perhaps a bit… too close to the situation.” Sam hedges. “And that you could benefit from speaking to someone with a more objective view of your involvement.”

“Okay. That makes sense, I guess.”

“Our conversation this morning is privileged, Donna. Anything you say to me in this room is protected. I won’t be acting as your attorney tomorrow but right now, I am going to help you as much as I possibly can. In order for that to happen, though, I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“Of course. But… do I need an attorney? Because Josh talked about calling his father's old firm.”

Sam shakes his head. “I think you’ll be just fine, Donna. This should be relatively easy. But if, through the course of our meeting today, I change my opinion on that I’ll certainly let you know.”

“Alright.” I nod my understanding. “Let’s get started.”

He runs through a line of questions, ranging from simple to complex. He gives me an idea of what they’ll be asking and while he doesn’t directly tell me how to respond, he reminds me to keep my answers short and to the point. 

He has me tell him how I found out about the President’s diagnosis, and who, if anyone I told. 

“Did you tell Josh?” He asks me point blank, even after I’ve assured him that I’ve never told anyone. 

“No. Of course not. It was HIPAA protected information. I would never tell anyone!” I’m getting a bit flustered. 

“Okay.” He nods just head. “I know you didn’t, Donna. I believe you. But they’re going to try to get you worked up. Just remain calm and tell the truth and you’ll do fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I nod slowly. I can do this. He’s right, I didn’t do anything wrong. 

“Now,” he perks right back up again, smiling warmly. “CJ ordered lunch from the place and it’s probably here. Shall we?”

I nod my agreement and stand. “Thanks again, Sam. For everything.”

“Of course,” he assures me, opening the door. 

Josh is out of Toby’s office and standing next to me in a flash. 

“Well?” He asks as though we’re waiting for test results and Sam is the exam proctor. 

“She’s going to be fine, Josh,” Sam assures. Sometimes I forget how long they’ve been friends. I’m not the only one around here that cares about Josh’s stress level. I feel better knowing they even in a crazy work environment like The White House, Josh is still surrounded by people that love him like family. 

We all walk towards CJ’s office to pick up the lunch orders, chatting with her for a few minutes about nothing of political importance before Josh and I return to his office to eat. He has a myriad of things to accomplish today, but we are struggling to find time to spend together lately. We’re both busier than ever, seeming like two ships passing in the night at home. I don’t feel bad admitting that I find myself missing him. 

It was his idea this morning, though, for me to bring my books to The White House and study in his office this afternoon. He’ll be in and out, and fairly busy working on his own projects, but at least we’ll be together. 

As the afternoon turns into evening, I find that I haven’t accomplished much in the way of studying. I have, however, spent a lot of time visiting with White House staffers and watching Josh work. I’ve long known that he’s an incredible man, driven and brilliant and hyper focused. But watching him in his element is a different beast entirely. He’s sitting in his casual clothes, marking up a draft of legislation in a blue folder, having just ended a call with a Member of Congress that left no question about who was calling the shots on this particular issue. It is a drastic difference from the tender, loving man that I share a home with, but I can’t help but find myself a little turned on. He jots a note in a margin and glances up to me, giving me a little smirk as one of his dimples pops. I give him a soft smile in return and he goes back to his work. 

I’m head over heels in love with this man.


	33. Chapter 33

Though I’m certainly nervous the morning I’m called before the committee, Josh does an incredible job of quelling my anxiety. 

When I step out of the shower in my robe, he has a cup of coffee and breakfast waiting for me. He’s not much of a cook, but he can scramble eggs and make toast. Actually, I think it’s the only source of nutrition that kept him going for several years. 

“Thank you,” I beam, kissing him good morning. 

His hair is sticking up in a dozen directions and even though I know he’s been up for nearly a half an hour, he’s still groggy, standing in his boxers and an undershirt in our kitchen. 

I slide into my seat and look at him expectantly. After a beat he catches on and sits down next to me, in front of his plate. 

I ask him what’s going on at the White House today, and remind him that I have a study group to prepare for finals immediately following my deposition. 

“Everything will be fine,” he tells me again as he gently takes my hand. 

“I know.” I give him a quick squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for breakfast.”

I put the plates in the dishwasher and the pan with a layer of burnt egg on it into the sink with some water to soak. We both get ready and head out at the same time. 

“You’ll call me when you’re done?” He asks as he stands propped in my open car door, leaning down to kiss me. 

“Of course I will. Have a good day. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he assures before closing the door and standing next to his car as he watches me drive away. 

I do feel my nerves increase as I park my car and make my way into the conference room where I’ll be meeting with the majority council. 

A long table stretches across the room, occupied by many people on one side, with an empty seat across from them, presumably for me, and several staffers in the corners. I take my place at the table and I’m handed a glass of water, but we waste no time getting down to business. 

The man who has introduced himself as Cliff a Calley is clearly leading the meeting. 

“This proceeding is known as a deposition,” he begins. “The person transcribing a deposition  
is a House reporter and although she's not a notary public you were just sworn in by a notary  
public and were placed under oath. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I find my voice. 

“Because you were placed under oath, your testimony here today has the same force and effect as if you were testifying before the committee in a courtroom. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“This committee has been granted authorization pursuant to House Resolution 173, my name  
is Clifford Calley. I'm Majority Counsel for the House Government Oversight and Reform  
Committee. Would you state and spell your full name for the record, please?”

“Donnatella Moss. D-o-n-n-a-t-e-l-l-a M-o-s-s.”

“Before we begin, I'd like to express the Committee's appreciation to the witness for appearing on a Sunday. Ms. Moss, are you here voluntarily or as a result of a subpoena?” He gives me a soft smile and though his words are pleasing, something about him still irritates me almost immediately. I don’t think I can trust him. 

“A subpoena.” I watch him closely. 

“No need to thank me.”

It takes a large amount of restraint for me not to roll my eyes as he continues.

“Donna, have you ever been charged with providing medical care to the President of The United States?”

“Yes.” Short, direct answers, just like Sam taught me. 

“Would you describe how that works?”

“Well, upon completion of a full year as a nurse at George Washington University Hospital, I was approached by a committee of hospital administrators and a White House liaison. The explained to me that the President has a special trauma team in our hospital, with multiple doctors and nurses to make sure a full team is on call at all times. They told me that over the last year they’d watched my work and they’d like me to apply to be a member. I expressed my interest, and proceeded to complete some additional training and submit to a full background check from the secret service. The whole process took about 6 weeks, at which time I was authorized to provide medical care to the President.”

“And for the record, the President you're referring to is…”

“President Josiah Bartlet.”

“Okay. My colleagues are going to ask you some questions. Then we'll get back to me and finish up.”

This hasn’t been so bad thus far, and I’m optimistic that this is really just a formality. 

“Ms. Moss?” Another man towards the end of the table begins to ask me questions. “Do you keep a photo album?”

“No.”

“Okay. Do you keep…”

“I'm sorry. Uh... I keep photographs, I don't have them in an album.” I feel the need to correct him. I’m a little flustered in general. 

“Okay. Do you keep a scrapbook?”

“No.”

“Do you keep letters, notes, or other correspondence you receive from people?”

“Sometimes a birthday card or a letter from my father.”

“Do you keep a diary?”

“No.” 

It occurs to me that I just lied to Congress, but they don’t know that. And it’s over my dead body that they’re going to read the contents of my diary and use Josh’s recovery from Rosslyn against him. I regret nothing. Next question. 

“Okay. Do you receive gifts from anyone who's currently working at the White House?

“Yes. From my boyfriend, Josh Lyman.”

“What kind of gifts?”

“Um, thoughtful items here and there. Flowers on special occasions. Jewelry on my birthday or the holidays.”

“Can you give us the total value of the gifts you’ve received from Mr. Lyman?”

“I’m not sure of the total value…” I was prepared for that question. 

“Can you approximate?” The man presses. 

“Well...” my mind starts to jog trying to figure out how to answer this. “I’d rather not speculate. I can provide you with an itemized list with appraisal values at a later date.”

“That will suffice,” Cliff jumps in. 

“But for the time being,” the man at the end of the table blusters, “you must have some kind of approximation. Over or under $100,000?”

“Oh! Under, I'm sure!” The last thing Josh gave me was a pair of fuzzy socks with donkeys on them. 

“Is that counting the $40,000 a year he’s paying for your tuition?”

“Well…” I trailed off, somewhat shocked.

“So you’re claiming he’s your “boyfriend,” the man uses air quotes, “but the only thing he gives you of value is a cash payment?”

“That will suffice,” Cliff repeats in a harsh tone before moving the questioning forward to the topic of the President’s medical history. 

It’s fairly uneventful, though. Sam was right. There’s little I could even answer, and after citing HIPAA law multiple times, I’m free to go. I call Josh's office and tell him everything went well. I know he was nervous but we decided I’d go alone and report back when I was finished. I end the call and head off to a study session on campus.


	34. Chapter 34

Josh is waiting outside the building when I exit after my last exam and it’s a beautiful day in DC. 

“Let’s walk,” he suggests, taking my hand. “I cleared the rest of my day.”

I grin broadly as we take our time wandering around the city we call home. We stop along the way, taking an outside table at a restaurant with a view of the water. We sip a drink and share an appetizer and just enjoy each other’s easy company. He pays the bill and takes my hand again as we stroll along the sidewalk through the tourists and towards a small garden area. 

“The last year has been absolutely incredible,” Josh begins. “And I… I…”

He pauses and makes an odd face. 

“Josh?” I’m watching him closely, wondering what could be wrong. 

“My heart,” he starts again, though he still looks a bit lost. “It’s doing funny things. Skipping a beat or something.”

“Arrhythmia?” I ask. “Josh, how long has this been going on?”

My senses heighten and I lead him off the path, worried that he’s been overly stressed lately. We sit down on the stone ledge of a large plant bed, under the gentle shade of a tree. 

“What? No. I mean, figuratively.” He shakes his head, and removes my hand from where I’m trying to take his pulse, intertwining our fingers. 

“I had a whole thing planned,” he tells me somewhat sheepishly before the next few words come tumbling out at a breakneck speed. “But I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been in my life and I can’t remember what I was going to say.”

I reach out and place my hand on his thigh to calm him down a bit and he takes a deep breath before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, antique box covered in crushed velvet. 

It’s my turn to freeze as my eyes grow wide in shock. 

“Will you marry me?” He asks hopefully, emotionally opening himself up to me in a way that no other human ever has. 

He doesn’t have to wait long for my response as I nod my head vigorously through tears and manage to answer with a breathy ‘yes!’

A few onlookers clap as he pulls me into his arms and buries his face into my neck. “I love you so much,” he whispers as we hold each other for a moment. 

“I love you too,” I respond. When we part, he opens the box and slips a large diamond in an antique setting onto my ring finger. 

I’m completely over the moon when we get up and begin to walk in the general direction of our apartment. 

“What would you think,” he asks me, “if I told you I don’t want to wait another day to make you my wife?”

“I’d like that,” I grin. 

“Taxi!” He sticks his arm out and hails a cab. 

“What are you doing?” I laugh, and then it hits me. “Oh my god. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.” He meets my gaze. “But if you want a long engagement and a big wedding, I am fine with that too.”

“Let’s go.” I grin. “Right now.”

I slide into the cab and Josh asks to be driven to the courthouse. When we arrive, I step out onto the sidewalk and am immediately met with a loud   
scream of delight as Joan practically knocks me over. 

I hear Sam offer Josh a hearty congratulations as Joan gives me a squeeze. “We’re going to be sisters,” she gushes. 

It’s actually a perk I hadn’t fully considered yet, but the thought does make me smile. 

“How did you know we’d be here?” I’m confused for a moment. Josh just asked me a few minutes ago and he didn’t place any calls from the car. 

“Call me an optimist,” Josh grins. “I took a chance. I'm tuned to you, afterall.”

I smile widely as we climb the steps to the courthouse. Both of our best friends, the people who are our family now, are here with us. This is all I’ve ever wanted. 

Today is perfect.


End file.
